Grant opened the door of the Cadillac just as Sara braked alongside Norie and rolled down the windows on her side.
'Hey, Mom!' Darius's blue eyes were wide with curiosity as he looked first at her, and then at the Cadillac across the road. 'Guess what? Raymond let Leo and me play his Nintendo, and we didn't even break it.'
For a paralyzed, horrified moment Noreen couldn't speak. Then she managed a weak, 'That's great, hon.'
Grant was paying Jimmy, so he didn't notice Darius.
Noreen touched Sara's arm. 'Why don't you drive on to the house? I'm almost through here. We'll have tea while the kids play.'
'Who's he?' Suddenly Sara saw the tears in her friend's eyes. 'Hey… '
'Later, Sara,' she whispered chokily. 'I'll tell you everything.'
'Why do I know you really won't?'
'Please… ' The sudden huge knot in Norie's throat made it impossible for her to explain.
Sara's brown eyes softened with compassion. She stepped on the gas just as Jimmy did the same. The Suburban turned off to head toward Norie's house. The wrecker headed back into town.
Noreen and Grant were left alone, standing on opposite sides of that desolate bit of asphalt in that wide-open landscape that seemed to stretch away forever. Noreen stole a glance at him. He was looking at her, too. And they were as mute and awkward with one another as if they were strangers.
Grant opened his trunk and pulled a shoebox and briefcase from it. He opened the shoebox and dangled a pair of sparkly red shoes from the tips of two lean fingers.
Her heart was pounding with fright. She had no choice but to cross the road and retrieve them.
She came so close to him, their steamy breaths mingled. Her hands touched his briefly. Warm skin against warm skin. They both tensed in acute awareness of one another. Then she was snatching her shoes from him and replacing them noisily into their tissue paper and box. He was briskly unsnapping his briefcase and pulling out a thick sheaf of legal documents.
She raised her eyebrows.
'These papers deal with your inheritance.' His voice was harsh and loud.
'I told you I don't want money, Grant.'
'That may be, but getting rid of it is going to be a little bit more complicated than that.' His dark face was as stern as death, his blue eyes unreadable.
He handed her his card. It was so crisp and sharp it cut her fingers.
'Call my secretary and make an appointment. I'll have her help you do whatever you decide to do about it.'
He was so coldly formal Norie's blood seemed to freeze in her veins. He was killing her. She almost broke down. Instead she met his chilling blue gaze.
Not a muscle moved in her beautiful face. Nor did she allow even the glimmer of a tear. She held herself as rigidly as he.
'All right,' she managed, forcing herself to speak, surprising herself by sounding calmly unconcerned.
For a moment longer he stared at her. His mouth hardened. 'So, it's goodbye? This time for good?'
When she said nothing to break the frozen silence, he opened the door of his car and hurled his great body angrily inside. 'Have it your way. It's not even goodbye.' He twisted the keys viciously in the ignition. 'Merry Christmas, Norie.'
As his big car zoomed away from her, the tears she had held back slipped down her cheeks in a scalding flow.
She watched his car until it vanished into the big empty landscape, and the knowledge that she was doing the right thing didn't help her at all.
'I'm sorry, Grant.' Her voice was low and muffled by her sobs. 'So sorry.'
But he was too far away to hear her. Too far away to know of the desperate pain in her heart that his leaving caused her.
Norie sat at the same table where she'd shared breakfast with Grant only an hour earlier. On the surface, everything was just as before. Except for the fact that it was Sara who was seated at the table with her.
There was no visible trace of Grant in the kitchen. No visible trace of him anywhere except in her heart.
The farmhouse was cozily warm. Sara had lit several of the space heaters, both upstairs and downstairs. The two women were in the kitchen dipping their tea bags into their cups. Leo and Darius were in Node's bedroom looking at the ornaments and presents.
'So who was he, Norie?' Sara demanded quietly. Her soft brown eyes were aglow with curiosity and concern.
Norie sipped her tea, too upset to reply. She wondered if her life would ever be the same without him. Instead of answering her friend, she listened to their sons in the next room.
'Yeah, Leo, I made this one.'
'I could tell 'cause you forgot to paint the reindeer's hoof.'
'And I popped the popcorn and stringed it. Mom made most of the good things though.'
'You don't have as many presents as me under your tree.'
'That's 'cause I want something special. See, Santa's gotta bring it all the way from the North Pole. And it could smother in his bag.'
'What do you want?'
'Santa knows.'
'I bet it's a dog.'
'It's sorta like a dog. Only better.'
The boys began to whisper conspiratorially.
But Norie couldn't hear them. Her own heart was pounding too hard.
'Mom!' Darius yelled from the doorway.
'Darius, that's your outside voice,' she murmured softly, correcting him out of maternal habit.
His impatient tone was only a fraction softer. 'Where's all my stuff?'
'In your room.'
'Everything?' He cocked his four-year-old brows as arrogantly as any Hale.
She nodded.
'Mom, I had things out where I wanted them.'
She smiled. 'Out is where you want everything.' But she was talking to an empty doorway. The boys were racing each other up the stairs like a pair of rough-and-tumble puppies.
'Boys! Leo! No running!' Sara called.
They pretended not to hear. The wild footsteps careened up the stairs and down the hall overhead.
'They sound like a herd of stampeding elephants.' Sara giggled.
Norie cringed when doors opened and slammed. 'So much for minding.'
'They're just excited over Christmas,' Sara said.
Norie sipped her tea.
'So who was that very attractive man?' Sara repeated her earlier question.
Norie had dreaded this. 'My brother-in-law.'
'What happened to his car?' Sara eyed the plump stack of legal papers in their blue folders that Norie had placed on the edge of the table. 'Why was he here?'
'Sara, it's something I can't talk about, not even to you.'
'Jim's right about you being mysterious.'
Galloping footsteps crashed down the stairs, and a breathless Darius flung himself into the kitchen. 'Hey, Mom, who slept in the guest bed upstairs?'
Sara arched her brows knowingly, and Noreen turned red.
'Can we play in there, Mom? The fire's on, and it's real warm.'
'No!' The single word was too sharp, and Darius, who was not used to such sternness from her, looked hurt. More gently she said, 'You bring your things down here where we can watch you.'
'But we want to play up there by ourselves.'
