Silhouette Christmas Stories

coat. 'I, um… I have to go- I'm late for work. Is it all right if I stop in after work to pick up the car? Oh-' She paused; he could see her steel herself before she turned back to him. 'I forgot- I know it's an imposition, but I promised I'd ask you. Is it all right if Andrew-if my son comes over here after school? He usually comes to my office and reads, or does his homework until I'm ready to go home, but he wanted-he said-'

'Yeah, sure,' Tony said. 'No problem.'

'Are you sure? I don't want him to be in the way. If you'd rather not-'

'He's not going to get in my way,' Tony interrupted her, more sharply than he intended. And then, because he didn't want her to think he was annoyed with her, he tried to soften it as best he could with a lopsided smile. 'Hell, I'm shorthanded today-one of my mechanics called in sick- I might just put the kid to work.'

There was a little silence while she looked at him, face thoughtful, hands in her coat pockets. Then she said softly, 'Thank you. That's very nice of you.'

Tony made an ambiguous sound-a grunt, or a snort. He couldn't have explained his feelings right then, or why it bothered him that she thought she had to apologize for her kid, and that she was treating Tony like some kind of saint for having him around. He was just a kid, for Pete's sake. A nice kid. 'Here,' he growled, putting an end to the matter, 'you want to sign this work order?'

He handed her a pen, but instead of giving the clipboard to her, he left it on the desk and just angled it toward her a little bit, so she'd have to step over close to him in order to sign it. He did it quite deliberately, to test her responses to him, just in case he'd been mistaken before and it was only the sight of blood that had made her so nervous.

What he didn't expect was that it would also be a test of his own self-control.

He drew a long, slow breath. Her hair did smell good-like nothing he could put a name to. It made him think of sunshine and fresh spring mornings, and clean clothes flapping on the line. If he closed his eyes he could feel it on his skin, cool and soft as a whisper…

'There,' she said as she put the pen down, breathless again. 'Is it all right if I come by right after work? It's apt to be a few minutes past five.'

Tony tore off her copy and handed it to her. The tension in him made his movements abrupt and his voice hard. 'I'll try to have it done by then, but I can't guarantee anything. I'm short one mechanic, and I've got to finish with that Lincoln out there before I can start yours.'

Her face registered dismay, alarm and, at last, pure panic. 'But you told me-on the phone-you told me if I brought it in first thing this morning I could have it by tonight. I have to have my car. I don't have any other way to get home-or back to work in the morning. And Andrew has to go to school-'

She broke off as Tony abruptly stood up, fished his keys out of the pocket of his coveralls and held them out to her. When she just stared at him, he gave the keys a little shake, making them jingle. 'Here, you can take mine. It's the white Chevy out back.'

From the look she gave the keys, Tony thought, someone would have supposed he'd handed her a tarantula. She transferred the same look to him and began to shake her head. 'Oh, no-no, I couldn't.' She took a step backward, away from him. When it looked as if she was likely to keep going in that direction, Tony caught her hand, turned it palm up, placed the keys in the middle of it and folded the fingers over them.

'Lady,' he said, holding her closed fist in both of. his hands, 'didn't you ever hear of a loaner?'

Her eyes locked with his across their clasped hands. He saw something flicker in the translucent blue, darken, and then catch fire. He felt the tension in her muscles as she fought him… and the relaxing when she surrendered. A new emotion swelled inside him: excitement… a strange, fierce thrill of joy.

'All right,' she murmured at last. 'Thank you.' She straightened her shoulders and lifted her head, an unconscious assertion of pride and dignity that touched Tony unexpectedly. Her face was expressionless as she pulled her hand from his grasp, dropped his keys into her coat pocket and placed hers on the clipboard beside the pen. 'You'll need these,' she said stiffly. 'I'll stop by for Andrew at five o'clock.'

'No need,' Tony said. 'I'll bring him home when I bring you your car.'

'But you said-'

'I said I didn't know if I could have it done by five, and I don't. Might take me an hour or so longer. Look-' he said when it appeared as if she was going to interrupt him, then had to interrupt himself to take a breath. His voice was gruff; he couldn't believe the tension in him. 'Look, I'll get your car done-don't worry about it. I'll have both the car and the kid home by suppertime. Okay?'

She drew a long breath and nodded. 'Okay. Thank you. Thank you very much. Um… you know where I live?'

'Yeah,' Tony said wryly, 'I know where you live.'

When his office door had closed behind her he said, 'Damn!' and let his breath out in a rush. He listened to the sound of Karen Todd's high-heeled shoes tap-tapping across the shop floor and finally fading into silence before he picked up her car keys, tossed them up and snatched them one-handed from the air. Warmth burst through him, and he began to smile.

The mysterious box greeted Karen when she arrived home from work, giving her a momentary jolt. With everything that had happened since, she'd all but forgotten it. For the rest of the evening, while she rushed to clean up the apartment, it sat there in the middle of her living room like an unexpected and slightly embarrassing guest- like the pastor on a duty call, she thought, or a wealthy but not-too-pleasant uncle-someone you would really rather not have in the house but couldn't risk offending. She'd straightened up around it and moved it in order to vacuum under it, all the while fidgeting with curiosity and vague feelings of resentment.

Who would send her son a package-such a large package!-and put no name or return address on it? There was no one in the world who had the right to do such a thing-no one! Andrew's father was dead. He had only one surviving grandparent, his father's mother, who lived in a mobile-home park outside Fort Lauderdale on a fixed and very inadequate income. Every year she sent her only grandson a Christmas card and a five dollar bill, which had arrived right on schedule two days ago. Beyond that there was no one-no uncles, aunts or cousins. Who could have done such a thing? What in the world could it be? And when in the world was that boy going to come home so she could find out?

Any minute, she thought for the twentieth time, looking at her watch. Any minute now.

She looked around, smoothing the front of her dress. The apartment looked reasonably tidy; thank goodness she'd had time to vacuum. Should she have changed out of her dress? She usually put on jeans and a sweatshirt when she got home from work. Maybe she should change right now: she wouldn't want Tony to think she was wearing a dress to impress him.

Oh, but she was! She was. And she'd vacuumed and tidied up the place for the same reason. For Tony D'Angelo? No, she told herself, she would have done the same thing no matter who it was. She didn't have many visitors. In fact, except for the landlady, Mrs. Goldrich, and that time Mr. James had stopped by on a Saturday to pick up some papers she'd taken home to work on over the weekend-an incident Karen preferred to forget- Tony would be the first. So it was no wonder she was nervous. Oh God, were her hands shaking? She held them up in front of her. No, steady as a rock. Good. She only felt shaky. Inside.

The front door slammed; voices drifted up the stairs. Andrew's voice, excited and young, and another, a low, baritone murmur. Karen's stomach knotted. She took a deep breath and one last quick look around. What should she do? Go out to the landing and meet them, or wait for the knock on the door? No, Andrew wouldn't knock, she reminded herself. He would just open the door and walk in, and here she'd be, standing around as if she'd been waiting for them. It would be better to go and meet them.

Just as she got to the door, it opened and Andrew burst in, cheeks red with cold, eyes shining with an excitement even his glasses couldn't hide. Behind him, filling up the doorway, was Tony.

'Hi, Mom!' Disdaining his usual hello kiss, Andrew brushed by her, dumped his backpack on the couch and made a beeline for the box. 'See, Tony? Here it is-it's got my name on it! And I get to open it now, right, Mom?'

Suddenly left to face her guest alone, Karen mustered a smile. 'Hi. Please-come in.' And then, with a little shrug of apology, 'I'm sorry, he's been so excited about this…'

'That's okay.' Tony's lips curved in a smile-the same slow, sweet, unanticipated smile that had taken Karen so completely by surprise when she'd encountered it that morning in his office. He smiled in stages, she decided-mouth