Part 29 (1/2)

Maury greeted us at the door and took our coats into the bedroom.

Ray took in the living room and whistled.

I stifled a laugh.

Red roses were everywhere. Roses in vases on the mantel, in pitchers on the coffee table and end tables, tucked in the Christmas tree as decorations, dried and crumbled in shallow dishes as potpourri. In addition, Erica had apparently used some of her precious wine cork and bottle cap collection to make an unusual mosaic frame for her wedding photo, which looked to have been taken outside a Vegas-like chapel. I got close enough to the photo to count the two dozen red roses she had clasped in her arms.

No sign of any dish gardens potted in homemade wis.h.i.+ng wells-not that I ever expected to see any of those again.

When Erica appeared in the kitchen doorway, she even had a rose in her hair.

Needless to say, the aroma was heady.

Erica gestured toward all four walls. ”How do you like the flowers?”

”They're amazing.”

Ray cleared his throat. ”Awesome.”

Erica danced into the room, sweeping her long emerald skirt through the air. ”Maury spoils me. He says I'm a domestic G.o.ddess.”

I saw Ray's eyes bulge on that one. He was probably thinking about the fact that I taught Erica what little she knows. But I have to give the man credit, he kept it together. He got his unreadable ”good cop, bad cop, anything-you-need-me-to-be cop” expression locked in place within seconds.

Maury offered us wine. Ray asked for a beer. Erica went to the kitchen to retrieve one. I followed her.

”So Maury bought all these roses for you?” A little adding machine in my head was running the numbers. No wonder they couldn't afford to pay their whole rent.

”No, oh no, these are the ones the florist discarded. They all had black spots or wilted leaves. I just pick off the dead stuff, and they look fine to me.”

A shrine of discarded roses for my sister. I tried not to read anything into that.

In the living room, Erica delivered Ray's beer and perched on the arm of Maury's chair. Then the four of us sat in awkward silence, alternately eating a bite and trying not to make eye contact.

”These are good hors d'oeuvres, Jolene. Did you make them?” Maury smiled at me.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that they came in a box. ”They bake up fast.”

Ray cleared his throat and took a long swig of beer. The four of us continued to smile politely at one another. I wished I were anywhere else. Knowing Ray, he probably wished he was at work.

The flowers started to get to me. My nose twitched. Then it itched. I rubbed it. My eyes watered. I sneezed. And sneezed. And sneezed.

Erica curled her lip and offered me a tissue box. ”Do you have a cold?”

”I think it's the flowers.”

”Oh.” She glanced at Maury. ”Why don't we sit down for dinner?”

We followed her into the dining room. She swept a huge bouquet of roses off the table and stuffed them in the closet.

Maury, Ray, and I pretended not to notice.

With the first cut, the prime rib bled like it was still alive. I half expected to hear it moo in protest. The lasagna noodles were still brittle. Erica had tried the ”no boil” method and forgotten to add extra water.

The salad looked good until it ended up swimming in the blood on my plate from the prime rib. I tried not to let my disgust show, but my expression betrayed me as usual.

Ray looked at me and b.u.t.tered a roll with great care, as though it might be the only thing he planned on eating tonight.

Looking from one of us to the other, Erica burst into tears then ran into the bedroom.

Maury chased after her. I thought about joining him, but it didn't seem to be my place anymore. He'd have to be the one to rea.s.sure Erica from now on that he loved her, whether she could cook or not. For a second, I felt like I'd lost something important. Then I started to feel tremendously relieved, as though a huge burden had just transferred from me to someone else. But I felt guilty for thinking of Erica as a burden, even though she was-on occasion-a weight heavy enough for an entire mule train.

Ray offered me half his roll. ”Let's invite them to dinner at our house next year.”

I smiled at the man who loved me. ”It's a plan.”

Maury reappeared five minutes later, shoulders slumped and red-faced. Our coats were in his hand. ”I think the pressure of entertaining has been too much for my wife. Would you excuse us?”

We were being sent home.

I took a minute to pack up my remaining hors d'oeuvres.

In the car, I fed them to Ray as he drove. ”I'm sorry.”

”Why are you sorry? You didn't ruin dinner.”

”I accepted her invitation. I should have known better.”

Ray shrugged. ”You had to give her a chance. From now on, we're busy if she invites us for dinner.”

But right now we didn't have anything to do for the rest of Christmas Day. Or anything more to eat. And all the restaurants in Wachobe were closed, as was every business. We were the only car on Main Street.

I thought for a second. ”Do you want to drive by the park and look at the town Christmas tree?”

”Good idea.”

A few minutes later, Ray pulled up next to the park on Main. In the center of it, a white band gazebo overlooked the lake, where the water had begun to freeze along the sh.o.r.eline. A twelve-foot evergreen lit with clear lights and covered with enormous red and gold ornaments shone brightly in the dusk.

My eyes filled with tears. I had found Noelle under that tree last year, wrapped in blankets and tucked safely into her car seat, waiting for me. She had been a precious gift. Just not one meant for us.

Ray ran his finger down my cheek. ”What are you thinking about?”

”Noelle.”

”Oh.” He reached over and lifted me across the center console and onto his lap. ”I miss her, too. But she's safe and healthy and happy. I'm not as sure about Danny. I'll miss him. I won't have anyone to play poker with anymore.”

I snuggled into his chest. Maybe I would try to learn the game to make Ray happy. ”Danny's father seems to love him.”

”I hope he loves him enough.”

I did, too, but Danny wasn't on my watch anymore. I'd let him go.