The Christmas Catch

popping the cork. It sprang forth in an arc as bubbles gurgled from the bottle. John picked up a cloth to wipe it, reaching forward for the cork on the floor. His fingers made contact with something else set back a little farther under the coffee table. What in Hades was that? John pinched the wooly fabric between his fingers, then slowly withdrew a bright red object from its stowaway perch.
    Mason stood, turning toward him.
    “Well, what do you know…?” John said aloud.

    Ellen melted in Carlos’s rapturous embrace at the airport. It was January first and her vacation had ended. “I’m not going to ask when I’m going to see you again,” she said sadly.
    Carlos pressed his forehead to hers. “Now you’re hurting my feelings.”
    Ellen stared into warm brown eyes knowing she couldn’t stand to say good-bye forever. “When’s the last time you came to Chicago?”
    “Nineteen seventy-nine.”
    “Then you’re overdue!”
    “I have a problem with that,” Carlos said, pulling back.
    “Oh?”
    “My old college chum, the one I used to stay with . . .” he began seriously, “has moved away.”
    She knew what he was getting at, but couldn’t resist teasing him. “I know some good hotels in the area.”
    Carlos feigned shock. “You wouldn’t toss an old man out in the snow?”
    Ellen kissed him soundly his bristly beard tickling.
    “Call me,” she said, breaking away.
    Carlos beamed as she picked up her luggage and set it on the conveyor belt. He withdrew his cell from his pocket and waved it in her direction. “I’ve got your number!”

Chapter Fifteen

    Christine sat at her drafting table intent on her sketch while classical music played in the background. All the Christmas decorations were tucked away, leaving her apartment with a neat array of modern furniture and clean open spaces. This drawing was whimsical and fun, with a family of snowmen tobogganing down a pine-studded hill. While there was computer software for graphic design, Christine preferred importing her hand-drawn illustrations into her layout program by using a scanner. This gave her the ability to create high-tech products with down-home appeal. It would take at least five years on her current income to save up enough to start her own company. In the meantime, she was determined to build a preliminary catalogue.
    She took a sip of coffee as sunlight streamed through the windows. It was still windy outdoors, but the mid-January snow had abated despite the freezing temperatures. A vague sound buzzed upstairs and she heard something thumping down the steps. Christine looked up to see Tyler headed downstairs, his tiny cell in one hand, dog-eared Jasper in the other. “Good morning, Sunshine!” she called happily from her stool.
    “Do I have school today?” he asked sleepily.
    “Yes baby, you do. But first,” she said, standing, “you’re in for a treat.”
    “Huh?” he asked warily.
    “I made homemade blueberry muffins.”
    He squinted his eyes. “You’re cooking before dinner?”
    Christine spurted a laugh and set a hand on her hip. “Your mom’s a pretty capable woman.”
    He studied her for a prolonged beat. “I thought so, but wasn’t sure.”
    He had such a way to fill her with confidence, Christine thought jovially. She was happy inside, happier than she’d been in a long time. Maybe she didn’t need a college professor to make her feel it, but it likely had helped that he’d pointed the way. Until Christine went to Vermont, it was like a part of her lay dormant, just waiting to be reawakened. Though her initial parting from John had left a bitter taste in her mouth, Christine realized after a while that she was the type who used lemons to make lemonade. Perhaps knowing John had been bittersweet, but being with him while reconnecting with Tyler would pay dividends for months to come. She not only got along better with her son, she’d gained additional confidence in herself. Confidence that she could do anything she put her mind to, given enough time. The future is long indeed, she thought with a melancholy smile.

    John waited in Ellen’s office with Mason, hoping he wasn’t being an egregious fool. But, the more he’d thought about it, the more right this step seemed. John wasn’t a reckless man. He weighed everything carefully, considered all the angles. And every way he posed the question, the answer came up the same. His semester started on Tuesday and he’d put off coming here until the last