The Christmas Catch

there?”
    Christine dabbed his upper lip with a napkin. “Sure baby, go right ahead.” She turned to John. “This place is great.”
    He grinned at her, blue eyes crinkling. “I thought you and Tyler might like it.” At his feet, Mason lazily lifted his head. John patted him lightly and he went back to sleep.
    “You’re pretty good with kids,” Christine told him. “Got any of your own?”
    “Me? Oh no. I mean, not yet. Never married. I’ve got two nieces and a nephew, though.”
    “Are they close by?”
    “I wish, but no. They’re with their mom in Baltimore. That’s where I grew up.”
    He shifted awkwardly. “And you and Tyler? Are you all on your own in Chicago? Any family there?”
    “It’s just the two of us,” she said. “My husband, Dan, Tyler’s dad, passed away a few years ago.”
    “I’m sorry, Christine. I had no—”
    “It’s all right. It’s good for me to talk about it.”
    “Was it an illness?” he asked tentatively.
    “Afghanistan.”
    John was quiet a moment. When he spoke his voice was tinged with compassion. “Things must be hard, getting by on your own with a young son.”
    “Ty and I manage,” she said, sounding braver than she felt. The truth was that she hadn’t been managing well at all lately.
    “You seem to do a great job…” His lips creased in a subtle smile. “…except for when you’re driving in snowstorms.”
    “Hey!” she cried in mock offense, but secretly she appreciated his effort to lighten the moment. Mason awakened, startled by her shout of surprise. John slipped him biscotti under the table to quell his interest. The dog took it and gnawed contentedly.
    “So tell me,” John said, changing the subject. “What do you do in Chicago?”
    “I’m a copywriter for a major greeting card company.”
    “That sounds interesting.”
    “Not as interesting as I’d like.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I basically write the words, but it’s always been my dream to illustrate too. You know, develop my own line—soup to nuts.”
    “Why not go for it?”
    “It’s not as easy as all that,” she said with a frown. “Company politics.”
    “So? Start your own company.”
    “What?”
    “What’s stopping you?” John leaned forward with his challenge.
    Christine sat back. “Oh, about a million things. First, I’d have to raise the capital, find investors. I couldn’t front even a small operation like that on my own. Then, I’d need to locate a printer, contract distributors…”
    “None of that sounds impossible.”
    “Impossible, no. It’s just nothing I’ve ever considered.”
    “With the Internet these days, there are bound to be new opportunities.”
    “Sure.”
    John took a slow sip of coffee, surveying her over the rim of his cup. After a beat, he surprised her by raising his cup to hers. “The future is long,” he said with an enigmatic smile.
    “Yes. Yes, it is,” she answered thoughtfully. “Very long indeed.”
    She returned his toast, mulling over his proposition. I mean, it would be a really big dream. Totally cool, she thought. Just no way could it happen now. Maybe someday, when things were more settled…
    Their eyes locked for a moment and Christine’s cheeks flamed. All John had to do was look at her and old embers leapt into brushfires, igniting sensations all over her body. Christine hadn’t felt those smoldering sensations in quite a while. In fact, she hadn’t been sure they still existed. But they did and here they were, raging out of control. So much so that Christine nabbed some ice from her water glass and dumped it in her coffee. Drinking something hot at the moment seemed positively contrary when Christine clearly needed to cool down.
    John swallowed hard and followed suit, likewise chilling his java. “It is a little warm in here,” he said, his face coloring as well. She couldn’t tell if it was from the warmth of the fire or from the way that she’d looked at him. In any case, his chiseled face was exceptionally handsome in the subtle glow.
    He studied their water glasses, then stumbled slightly with the words. “In present day, we seem to be all out of ice. Should I get us some more?”
    “That would be great, thanks.”

    When John returned, the conversation turned to something thankfully less personal, the topics of courses he taught at the business school. While Christine wasn’t familiar with all the nuances, it was refreshing to talk to someone so enthusiastic about his work.