Eight
A few hours earlier, Carrie had been telling her mother that she barely knew Philip Lark and now she doubted there was any man she knew better. They sat in an Italian restaurant, Christmas packages around their feet, and talked until it seemed there was nothing more to say. Their dinner dishes had long since been removed and Philip poured the last of the red wine into her goblet.
The room swayed gently from side to side, but her light-headedness wasn’t due to the pinot noir. Philip was the reason. He’d told her things she’d felt it would take him months if not years to reveal. He’d spoken of his marriage and his feelings about fatherhood. She listened, a lump in her throat, as he heaped the blame for the failure of his marriage on his own shoulders. She doubted very much that he was entirely responsible, but she admired his gallantry.
“You’re friends with Laura?” she asked at one point.
“Yes. Beyond anything else, she’s Mackenzie’s mother. I made mistakes in this marriage, but my daughter wasn’t one of them. I’ll always be grateful to my ex-wife for Mackenzie.”
Tears formed in the corners of Carrie’s eyes at the sincerity with which he spoke. How easy it would be for him to blame his ex-wife for all their problems. Carrie was sympathetic to his side, and knew from things Mackenzie had told her that Laura wasn’t exactly a loving or attentive mother. Carrie suspected she hadn’t been much of a wife, either.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Philip asked unexpectedly.
“Sunday.” Carrie propped her elbows on the white linen tablecloth. “The Mannings are getting together. Mom and I married into this large, wonderful family. Jason has four brothers and sisters. There are so many grandchildren these days it’s difficult to keep track of who belongs to whom. Why don’t you and Mackenzie come along and meet everyone?” Carrie couldn’t believe she’d impulsively tossed out the invitation. While she did want him to attend, there’d certainly be speculation...
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. Just... Never mind,” she said, stopping herself. Her gaze held his. “It would mean a great deal to me if you’d come.”
“Then we will.” He reached for her hand with both of his.
* * *
Philip had given up the effort of remembering everyone’s names. He’d cataloged the first ten or so relatives Carrie had introduced him to, but the others became lost in the maze.
Mackenzie had disappeared almost the minute they arrived. Doug and Dillon had greeted him cheerfully and then quickly vanished with his daughter. Holding a cup of eggnog, Philip found himself a quiet corner.
From this vantage point, he watched Carrie interact with her family. His eyes followed her as she moved across the room, apparently to find her mother so she could introduce her parents to Philip. He couldn’t take his eyes off Carrie. Her face was flushed with happiness, her eyes glowing with excitement. She’d married into this family, but it was clear they thought of her as one of their own.
“Do you mind if I join you?” a woman unexpectedly asked him.
“Please do.” He stood to offer her his seat.
“No, no. Sit down, please. I can only stay a moment. You’re Philip, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Philip Lark.” The dark-haired beauty had to be Carrie’s mother. “You’re Charlotte Manning?”
“How perceptive of you. Yes.” She held out her hand, which he shook.
He was astonished that he hadn’t recognized the resemblance sooner. Charlotte and Carrie had the same intense blue eyes, the same joyous energy and a gentleness of spirit that was unmistakable.
They spoke for a few minutes about unimportant matters. Small talk. Although Philip had the impression he was being checked out, he also had the feeling that he’d passed muster. He liked Charlotte, which made sense, since he definitely liked Carrie.
“So this is Carrie’s young man.” Charlotte’s husband, Jason Manning, joined his wife and slipped his arm around her waist. “Welcome. Where’s Carrie? She’s left you to fend for yourself?”
“I gather she went in search of you two.”
The three of them spoke for a while before Jason glanced over his shoulder and called out, “Paul, come and meet Carrie’s friend.”
Soon a large group had gathered around Philip, more faces than he could ever remember. He stood and shook hands with Carrie’s two uncles. Once again he felt their scrutiny.
Soon a loud, “Ho, ho, ho,” could be heard in the background. Jason’s father had donned a Santa suit and now paraded into the room, a bag of gifts swung over his shoulder. The children let out cries of glee and crowded around Santa.
Philip was grateful that everyone had begun to watch the scene taking place with Santa Claus. He sat down in his chair again and relaxed, grateful not to be the center of attention. Soon Carrie was with him. She sat on the arm and cast him an apologetic look.
“Sorry, I got sidetracked.”
“So I saw.” He patted her hand. “I met your stepfather and two uncles.”
“Aren’t they great?” Her eyes gleamed with pride.
“I need a degree in math to keep track of who’s married to whom.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll come. Be thankful not everyone’s here.”
“You mean there are even more?”
Carrie grinned and nodded. “Taylor and Christy both live in Montana. Between them they have six children.”
“My goodness.” Adding ten more names to his list would have overwhelmed him. “Mackenzie certainly seems to fit right in.”
“Doug and Dillon think she’s the best thing since cookie-dough ice cream. Knowing her gives them the edge over their cousins.”
While the youngsters gathered around their grandfather in his red suit, Mackenzie made her way toward him and Carrie. Philip understood. At thirteen she was too old to mingle with the kids who believed in Santa Claus, and too young not to be caught up in the excitement, even though Santa wouldn’t have a gift for her.
“Are you having fun?” Philip whispered when she sat down on the chair’s other arm, across from Carrie.
“This is so great,” she whispered. “I didn’t know families could get this big. Everyone’s so friendly.”
Santa dug deep into his bag, produced a package and called out the name. Doug leaped to his feet and raced forward as if he had only a limited amount of time to collect his prize.
Santa reached inside his bag again and removed another gift. “What’s this?” he asked, lowering his glasses to read the tag. “This is for someone named Mackenzie Lark. I do hope Mrs. Claus didn’t mix up the gifts with those of another family.”
“Mackenzie’s here!” Dillon shouted. He stood and pointed toward Philip and Carrie.
“Me?” Mackenzie slid off the chair. “There’s a gift in there for me?”
“If your name’s Mackenzie, then I’d say this present is for you.”
His daughter didn’t need a second invitation. She hurried over to Santa, as eager as Doug had been.
Philip’s questioning gaze sought out Carrie’s. “I’m sure my mother’s responsible for this,” she told him.
“I met her,” he said. “We talked briefly.”
Carrie’s eyes widened. “What did she have to say?”
“She was very pleasant. It was your stepfather who put the fear of God into me.”
“Jason? Oh, dear. Listen, whatever he said, disregard it. He means well and I love him to death, but half the time he’s thinking about sports statistics and he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
Philip smiled. He’d never seen Carrie more unnerved. Even when they were trapped in the elevator, she’d displayed more composure than this.
“Carrie, good grief, what do you think he said?”
She clamped her mouth shut. “I—I’m not sure, but it would be just like him to suggest you take the plunge and marry me.”
“Oh, that, well...”
“Are you telling me he actually—”
Philip had to make an effort not to laugh out loud. “He didn’t, so don’t worry about it.”
Mackenzie had claimed her gift and was walking back, clutching the package in both hands.
“You can open it,” Carrie assured her.
“Now?” She tore into the wrapping as though she couldn’t wait a second longer. Inside was an elegant vanity mirror with a brush and comb set. “It’s perfect,” she whispered, holding the brush and comb against her. “I’ve always wanted one of these sets. It’s so...so feminine.”
“How’d your family know?” Philip asked. He’d never have thought to buy something like this for his daughter.
“I have one,” Carrie whispered. “She’s used it a number of times.”
“Oh.” More and more he felt inadequate when it came to understanding his daughter. She was in that awkward stage, and it was difficult to know exactly where her interests lay. Half the time she talked about wanting a horse and ballet lessons; the rest of the time she listened to music he’d never heard before and gossiped about celebrities who seemed completely irrelevant to him. Part girl, part woman, Mackenzie traveled uneasily from one desire to the next. It wasn’t just her interests that confused him, either. One minute she’d be her lighthearted self and the next she’d be in tears over something he considered trivial. He wished Laura had taken more interest in her. Often he felt at a loss in dealing with Mackenzie’s frequent mood swings.
Philip had enjoyed himself, but he was exhausted and felt relieved when the party ended. He thanked the elder Mannings for having him and Mackenzie.
“You’re welcome anytime,” Elizabeth Manning said, clasping his hand between both of her own. In what seemed an impulsive gesture, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You’d be a welcome addition to our family,” she whispered in his ear. “Just promise me one thing?”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I want a nice, big wedding,” she said, this time loudly enough for half the room to hear.
Philip heard a murmur of approval behind him. “Ah...”
“Thanks again, Grandma,” Carrie said, saving him from having to come up with a response.
Carrie hugged the older couple and led the way outside. Jason, Charlotte, Doug and Dillon followed them to the driveway for a second round of hugs and farewells. This had to be one of the most outwardly affectionate families Philip had ever met, but it didn’t bother him. The opposite, in fact. He liked everything about them. These were good people, hardworking and family-oriented. He’d never seen himself in that light, although it was what he wanted to be. However, neither he nor Laura had been raised that way.
They sang Christmas carols on the drive home. Carrie’s voice blended smoothly with that of his daughter. His own was a bit rough from disuse and slightly off-key, but no one seemed to mind, least of all Mackenzie, whose happiness spilled over like fizz in a soda bottle. He parked in the garage and they walked across the street to the apartment building, still laughing and chattering excitedly.
“I had a wonderful time,” his daughter told Carrie, hugging her close as they waited for the elevator.
“I did, too.”
“I’m so glad your family get-together was tonight instead of tomorrow. I’ll be with my mother, you know.”
“I do,” Carrie said. “You’ll miss the party here, but I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Do you think Madame Frederick will made a prediction for me, even if I’m not there?”
“I’m sure she will,” Carrie answered.
“She’ll have to make one for me in absentia, as well,” Philip said.
“You aren’t coming?” This news appeared to catch Carrie by surprise. She’d asked him about the Christmas party earlier and he’d managed to avoid answering one way or the other.
“No,” he said, pushing the button to close the elevator door.
“But I thought... I hoped...” Her disappointment was evident.
Philip didn’t want to say anything negative, but as far as he was concerned, the majority of people living in the building complex were oddballs and eccentrics. He didn’t have anything against them, but he didn’t want to socialize with them, either.
“Talk him into it,” Mackenzie said when the elevator stopped on Carrie’s floor.
He wished now that he hadn’t said anything. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Carrie asked.
What he’d like was time alone with Carrie.
“Sure he would,” Mackenzie answered for him, and shoved him out of the elevator. The doors closed before he could respond.
“I guess I would,” he said, chuckling.
Carrie’s eyes shyly met his. “I was hoping you would.”
She unlocked her door and walked inside, but he stopped her from turning on the light. With his hand at her shoulder, he guided her into his arms. “I’ve been waiting for this all night,” he whispered and claimed her lips.
He meant it to be a soft, gentle kiss. One that would tell her he’d enjoyed her company, enjoyed their evening together. But the minute his mouth settled over hers he experienced a desire so strong it was all he could do to keep it in check. No woman had ever affected him like this. He wove his fingers into her hair and tilted her head to one side in order to deepen their kisses.
She groaned softly. Then again, it could be the sound of his own pleasure that rang in his ears. The hot, breathless kisses went on. And on...
“Why won’t you come to the party tomorrow night?” she asked minutes later.
The building’s Christmas party was the last thing on Philip’s mind. He led her through the darkened living room, sat down and drew her into his lap. “Let’s talk about that later, all right?” He didn’t give her time to say anything, but directed her lips back to his.
“Why later?” She nibbled the side of his neck, sending delicious shivers down his back.
“I’m not sure I trust Madame Frederick.”
She laughed and he felt her breath against his skin. “She’s completely harmless.”
“So they say.” He placed his hands on either side of her face and brought her lips down to meet his again. The kiss was long and deep, and it left him breathless.
“The people in this building are a bunch of oddballs. Half of them are candidates for the loony bin,” he said when he’d recovered sufficiently to speak.
Carrie stiffened in his arms. “You’re talking about my friends.”
“No offense,” he said. But surely she recognized the truth when she heard it.
Carrie squirmed out of his lap and stood in front of him. “I live in this apartment complex. Is that how you think about me?”
“No.” He sighed. “If it means so much to you, I’ll attend this ridiculous party.”
“No, thanks,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t want you to do me any favors.”
From her tone of voice, Philip realized he’d managed to offend her, which he regretted. Yesterday’s conversation with Gene had made him understand that she was a blessing in his life. A gift.
A gift he wanted to accept...
“Carrie, I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn.”
“Is that what you really think of us, Philip?” she asked, her voice uncertain.
He didn’t respond right away, afraid anything more he said would only make things worse.
“That’s answer enough. I’m tired... I’d like you to leave now.”
“Carrie, for heaven’s sake, be reasonable.”
She stalked over to the door and opened it, sending a harsh shaft of light across his face. Philip squinted and did as she asked. “We’ll talk about this later, all right?”
“Sure,” she said in a sarcastic murmur.
Rather than wait for the elevator, Philip took the stairs to his apartment a floor above Carrie’s. He’d discuss this with Mackenzie, get her advice on how to handle it. Ironic that he was turning to his thirteen-year-old daughter for help with the very situation she’d engineered...
The apartment was dark and silent when he entered. He switched on the light and walked down the hall to Mackenzie’s bedroom. Her bed was slightly mussed as if she’d sat on it.
“Mackenzie!” he called.
No response.
He checked the other rooms and found a note from her on the kitchen table.
Dad,
Mom left me a message. She said she wouldn’t be coming for me, after all, and that I couldn’t spend the holidays with her. I guess I should’ve known she’d be too busy for me. She has time for everything else but me. I need some time alone to think.
Mackenzie