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“Yes. I have too much to do to take time off.”
“Well, since tomorrow is a workday, I chose to stay, too. It’s a long drive for a day. And I wanted to conserve my energy.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
Most of the time. She still had twinges of pain. The internal scarring made expansion of the uterus difficult. Every time she felt a sharp pain, she held her breath, hoping her body could continue to cope with the changes.
“It’s late notice, I know, but I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“I’ve prepared a dinner.”
Quickly she reviewed her menu. There was plenty for two. She’d planned to have leftovers. “Want to come here?”
“Yes. When?”
“Now is fine. It’s cooking. I thought to eat around six. There was a Christmas movie I wanted to watch on television later.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Trace bought her a gold charm bracelet with a baby carriage on it. The diamond wheels sparkled in the light. She was delighted when she opened the small box.
Thankfully she’d bought him a mystery book by a favorite author. He smiled when he ripped off the paper.
“We’ll have to take turns reading it,” he’d said.
Cath went to get some nibbles before dinner. Trace walked over to the tree.
“Did you put one up?” she asked when she returned.
“No. Too much trouble for one.”
“Do you normally go to your parents’ home for the holiday?” She placed the tray of cheese and antipasto on the coffee table and sat on the sofa.
He joined her. “Most of the time. I went home last year.”
“What’s your favorite memory of Christmas?” she asked.
Trace told her about the year he got his first bicycle. Then Cath told about hers and soon they were reminiscing about other holidays and how they had differed between an only child and the eldest of three.
They worked together to put the meal on the table. When eating, the easy camaraderie continued. Cath was glad she hadn’t gone home. She would have missed this special time with her baby’s father.
Trace enjoyed the meal—both the food and the companionship. At one point, he asked if she did a lot of cooking.
“Not much. I usually get home late and am not in the mood to start preparing anything. Often I eat my main meal at noon. Then sandwiches or a cup of soup suffices. How about you, do you cook?” she replied.
“Not if I can help it. Breakfasts are my specialty. If I don’t grab something to eat on the way home from work, I’ll make an omelet or something. Not much point in cooking for one.”
“Which my mother has trouble relating to. She has always had wonderful dinners for the entire family. Even when we were teenagers and had other activities, we had a rule in our home to be at dinner. Now it’s just her and my dad. But she still loves to cook.”
Trace glanced around the apartment. Had Cath picked up her decorating expertise from her mother? He liked it.
Looking back at Cath, he realized he liked her as well. More than he expected. She was unlike Cynthia. Not only in personality, but in years of experience, and in finding herself long ago. She had goals and plans and their one night together had changed everything.
Yet he’d never once heard her complain about it.
About Phil, yes.
