Debbie Macomber: Home for the Holidays: The Forgetful Bride / When Christmas Comes

“I doubt it’d do any good to suggest you get organized.”

“I haven’t got the time.”

“What are you doing right now? Write out your list, stick to it and make the time to go shopping.”

“My darling Cait, is this an invitation for me to join you tomorrow?”

“Uh…” Cait hadn’t intended it to be, but she supposed she couldn’t object as long as he behaved himself. “You’re welcome on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“No jokes, no stunts like you pulled today and absolutely no teasing. If you announce to even one person that we’re married, I’m walking away from you and that’s a promise.”

“You’ve got it.” He raised his hand, then ceremoniously crossed his heart.

“Lick your fingertips first,” Cait demanded. The instant the words were out of her mouth, she realized how ridiculous she sounded, as if they were eight and ten all over again. “Forget I said that.”

His eyes were twinkling as he stood to bring his plate to the sink. “I swear it’s a shame you’re so in love with Paul,” he told her. “If I’m not careful, I could fall for you myself.” With that, he kissed her on the cheek and let himself out the door.

Pressing her fingers to her cheek, Cait drew in a deep, shuddering breath and held it until she heard the door close. Then and only then did it seep out in ragged bursts, as if she’d forgotten how to breathe normally.

“Oh, Joe,” she whispered. The last thing she wanted was for Joe to fall in love with her. Not that he wasn’t handsome and sweet and wonderful. He was. He always had been. He just wasn’t for her. Their personalities were poles apart. Joe was unpredictable, always doing the unexpected, whereas Cait’s life ran like clockwork.

She liked Joe. She almost wished she didn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. However, a steady diet of his pranks would soon drive her into the nearest asylum.

Standing, Cait closed the pizza box and tucked the uneaten portion onto the top shelf of her refrigerator. She was putting the dirty plates in her dishwasher when the phone rang. She quickly washed her hands and reached for it.

“Hello.”

“Cait, it’s Paul.”

Cait was so startled that the receiver slipped out of her hand. Grabbing for it, she nearly stumbled over the open dishwasher door, knocking her shin against the sharp edge. She yelped and swallowed a cry as she jerked the dangling phone cord toward her.

“Sorry, sorry,” she cried, once she’d rescued the telephone receiver. “Paul? Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Is this a bad time? I could call back later if this is inconvenient. You don’t have company, do you? I wouldn’t want to interrupt a party or anything.”

“Oh, no, now is perfect. I didn’t realize you had my home number…but obviously you do. After all, we’ve been working together for nearly a year now.” Eleven months and four days, not that she was counting or anything. “Naturally my number would be in the Human Resources file.”

He hesitated and Cait bent over to rub her shin where it had collided with the dishwasher door. She was sure to have an ugly bruise, but a bruised leg was a small price to pay. Paul had phoned her!

“The reason I’m calling…”

“Yes, Paul,” she prompted when he didn’t immediately continue.

The silence lengthened before he blurted out, “I just wanted to thank you for passing on that article on the tax advantages of limited partnerships. It was thoughtful of you and I appreciate it.”

“I’ve read quite a lot in that area, you know. There are several recent articles on the same subject. If you’d like, I could bring them in next week.”

“Sure. That would be fine. Thanks again, Cait. Goodbye.”

The line was disconnected before Cait could say anything else and she was left holding the receiver. A smile came, slow and confident, and with a small cry of triumph, she tossed the telephone receiver into the air, caught it behind her back and replaced it with a flourish.

Cait was dressed and waiting for Joe early the next morning. “Joe,” she cried, throwing open her apartment door, “I could just kiss you.”

He was dressed in faded jeans and a hip-length bronze-colored leather jacket. “Hey, I’m not stopping you,” he said, opening his arms.

Cait ignored the invitation. “Paul phoned me last night.” She didn’t even try to contain her excitement; she felt like leaping and skipping and singing out loud.

“Paul did?” Joe sounded surprised.

“Yes. It was shortly after you left. He thanked me for giving him an interesting article I found in one of the business journals and—this is the good part—he asked if I was alone…as if it really mattered to him.”

“If you were alone?” Joe repeated, and frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Don’t you understand?” For all his intelligence Joe could be pretty obtuse sometimes. “He wanted to know if you were here with me. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Paul’s jealous, only he doesn’t realize it yet. Oh, Joe, I can’t remember ever being this happy. Not in years and years and years.”

“Because Paul Jamison phoned?”

“Don’t sound so skeptical. It’s exactly the break I’ve been waiting for all these months. Paul’s finally noticed me, and it’s thanks to you.”

“At least you’re willing to give credit where credit is due.” But he still didn’t seem particularly thrilled.

“It’s just so incredible,” she continued. “I don’t think I slept a wink last night. There was something in his voice that I’ve never heard before. Something…deep and personal. I don’t know how to explain it. For the first time in a whole year, Paul knows I’m alive!”

“Are we going Christmas shopping or not?” Joe demanded brusquely. “Damn it all, Cait, I never expected you to go soft over a stupid phone call.”

“But this wasn’t just any call,” she reminded him. She reached for her purse and her coat in one sweeping motion. “It was was from Paul. ”

“You sound like a silly schoolgirl.” Joe frowned, but Cait wasn’t about to let his short temper destroy her mood. Paul had phoned her at home and she was sure that this was the beginning of a real relationship. Next he’d ask her out for lunch, and then…

They left her apartment and walked down the hall, Cait grinning all the way. Standing just outside the front doors was a huge truck with gigantic wheels. Just the type of vehicle she’d expected him to drive the night he’d taken her to Henry’s.

“This is your truck?” she asked when they were outside. She couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.

“Something wrong with it?”

“Not a single thing, but Joe, honestly, you are so predictable.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday.”

She grinned again as he opened the truck door, set down a stool for her and helped her climb into the cab. The seat was cluttered, but so wide she was able to shove everything to one side. When she’d made room for herself, she fastened the seat belt, snapping it jauntily in place. She was so happy, the whole world seemed delightful this morning.

“Will you quit smiling before someone suggests you’ve been overdosing on vitamins?” Joe grumbled.

“My, aren’t we testy this morning.”

“Where to?” he asked, starting the engine.

“Any of the big malls will do. You decide. Do you have your list all made out?”

Joe patted his heart. “It’s in my shirt pocket.”

“Good.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to buy for whom?”

His smile was slightly off-kilter. “Not exactly. I thought I’d follow you around and buy whatever you did. Do you know what you’re getting your mother? Mine’s damn difficult to buy for. Last year I ended up getting her a dozen bags of cat food. She’s got five cats of her own and God only knows how many strays she’s feeding.”