"Great. Just great," Peter muttered.
"Now what?" Kacie's face was red and her tone was sharp.
"What do you mean, 'now what'?" Peter snapped back.
Taking a deep breath, Kacie bit her lip before replying. "You've been grumbling ever since we left home. About having to work late today, the traffic, the other drivers on the roads, and now…what? The streets are slick? Why don't you just come out and say what's really bugging you? You're mad at me because I'm on call tonight. Why don't you just say it?"
His eyes glittered angrily. "OK. Yeah, I'm mad. The first time my family is having Christmas together in three years, and you probably won't even be here."
Kacie sighed wearily, leaning her head against the neck rest and closing her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you, Peter? I…didn't…have…a…choice in the matter. My tenure started over at the hospital when I got my job back five months ago. Everybody else has been there longer than me, so I'm the one on call. And furthermore, we don't even know I'll GET called!"
"You will," he sulked. "Just like always."
Kacie huffed out her breath in exasperation and spoke through gritted teeth. "Can we go inside now? It's cold out here. And I don't mean just the temperature." She unsnapped her seatbelt and slipped out of the car to walk quickly to the front door and ring the bell.
Peter watched her resentfully a moment before getting out of the car himself to open the trunk. He removed their overnight bags and a box of gifts, shutting the trunk with his elbow. "Merry Christmas," he groused. "Our first Christmas together, and we're spending it fighting."
"Talking to yourself, Son?"
Peter jumped at the voice, and did a quick juggling act to catch the box of gifts before it could crash to the driveway. The luggage didn't fare as well, and when the bags hit the concrete, he heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. "Shit! That's probably Kacie's perfume bottle!"
He shoved the box of presents into Paul Blaisdell's arms and snatched the bags up off the driveway. A fragrant amber liquid dripped slowly from one corner of Kacie's bag. "Damn it! I knew it! That stuff cost me $85 bucks!"
Not bothering to hide a smile, Paul commented philosophically, "Good thing it's Christmas."
"Yeah? Where's the peace on earth, good will toward men? Especially husbands?"
Paul grinned at him. "Holiday stress getting to the two of you, is it? I hope it's nothing some strategically placed mistletoe won't cure."
"She's on call tonight, and I wanted us to spend Christmas Eve together." Peter's bluster faded away. "And I…just spent the past half hour making an ass of myself," he finished weakly.
"Sounds like you'd better start tracking down that mistletoe, Peter. Come on, Son, let's get inside."
Kacie was helping Annie and the girls in the kitchen when Peter walked in carrying her dripping bag. Unsure of his welcome, he approached his wife hesitantly. "Kacie, I dropped your bag. I-I think I broke something."
She turned and looked, first at him and then the bag he held for her inspection. Wrinkling her nose at the overwhelming odor of her perfume, she gasped in dismay. "Oh, no! My clothes for tomorrow are in there!"
Annie smiled in her direction. "You know where the laundry room is, Sweetie. Maybe if you wash things out real quick, nothing will stain." She laughed good-naturedly. "I sure will have the nicest smelling laundry facilities in the neighborhood."
"Thanks, Annie. I won't be a minute with this." Without meeting Peter's eyes, she took the bag from him and disappeared through the door leading to the utility room.
Peter stood looking forlornly after her until Carolyn elbowed him. "Well, Big Brother? Aren't you going to go help her?"
"Yeah, Peter, get out of the way in here," Kelly chimed in. "The kitchen is no place for you, anyway."
"Oh, that's pretty good, coming from the Queen of Charcoal herself," Peter hooted derisively, giving his mother a quick hug and each sister a peck on the cheek before he trailed into the laundry room after Kacie.
The washing machine was filling with water as Kacie carefully measured the detergent and poured it into the tub.
Peter stood just inside the doorway and watched without speaking, trying to find the words he wanted to say.
Kacie's jaw was set, and she chewed on her lower lip as she sorted through the perfume-soaked clothing and dropped the items into the soapy water. She closed the lid and leaned against the machine, her head bowed and her unbraided hair curtaining her face.
"Aw, Kace, I'm sorry I picked at you all the way over here. It's our first Christmas together, the first Christmas with you a part of my family. I-I-I guess I just want it to be perfect. I want to spend Christmas Eve with you."
"I…haven't even wanted to think about Christmas in so…lo-ong." Her voice caught, and she lifted tear-filled eyes to his. "Now I have you, and I feel a part of a family again. I don't want to be anywhere but with you tonight, either, and you kept acting like…" She blinked and quickly scrubbed away the hot tears with the heels of her hands.
"I acted like a stupid jerk. Forgive me?"
She sniffled and nodded.
"Seal the deal under the mistletoe?" He raised his eyebrows and looked at her hopefully.
She sniffed again and laughed through her tears, walking into his open arms. "Someday I'm going to build up a resistance to those puppy dog eyes, and then what are you going to do?"
Just before his lips closed on hers, he murmured, "I hope that never happens."
A loud banging on the door made them both jump. Kelly stuck in her head and grinned at them. "Hey, when you guys come up for air, we're about ready to eat out here."
Peter frowned in annoyance at his sister. "How would you like a Christmas stocking wrapped around your neck?"
Kelly laughed. "If you're done pouting, we're ready to let you join the rest of us." She pulled back her head and closed the door.
Peter held Kacie more tightly, and was in the middle of some serious kissing when Kelly abruptly opened the door and popped her head through once more.
"Hey, come on. There's plenty of mistletoe out here, too." She ducked out giggling as an empty bottle of fabric softener winged her way and bounced off the hastily closed door.
"That was a real grown up thing to do," Kacie scolded, hands on slender hips.
Peter grinned at her. "Christmas is a time for kids. So, I'm a big kid."
Wrapping her arms around his waist, her eyes twinkled devilishly at him. "Big, you are. Kid, you are not."
A lustful glint appeared in Peter's hazel eyes. "Don't you be starting something we aren't going to be able to finish."
"Later, then." She nibbled his neck and nipped briefly at his ear. "In front of the fireplace, like on our honeymoon."
Rubbing his cheek against her hair, he growled, "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
"Mm-hmm."
"You know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?"
"Mm-hmm."
"You expect me to walk out in front of my family like this?"
"Mm-hmm. You're the one who brought up mistletoe. Just tell them you're having a reaction to mistletoe."
Peter shouted with laughter. "I'm having a reaction, all right, but mistletoe has very little to do with it."
He lowered his head to kiss her, and at that precise moment, the beeper clipped to the waistband of her jeans went off.
Peter's face reddened, and all romantic notions fled. "I knew it! I knew it!"
Unable to meet his eyes, Kacie stepped back from his embrace and muttered unhappily, "I gotta go use the phone."
She slipped into the kitchen and he stalked after her, standing to listen to the conversation.
Punching in the hospital number, Kacie fidgeted nervously, toying with the phone cord. "Yes…This is Kacie Caine…I was just paged…Snowing?…Come in NOW?…But, we haven't even eaten yet…"
At this, Peter rolled his eyes heavenward and pushed through the swinging doors to enter the dining room. As he sat down at the heavily laden table, his face looked like a thundercloud. "Kacie has to go to work tonight," he announced in a tight voice. "She just got paged."
A general murmur of disappointment went up around the table.
"I was looking forward to harassing the newest member of the family," Todd complained.
"I was looking forward to more than that," Peter grumbled under his breath.
Kacie emerged from the kitchen, a picture of misery. "I'm sorry, everybody. I was really looking forward to Christmas Eve with all of you." Her eyes focused on Peter, pleading for understanding, but his gaze was fastened on the plate before him.
Voice faltering, she gamely went on. "They said it was snowing pretty hard out, and-and that I should come in now so I wouldn't have to hurry if I got called in later."
"You mean they don't even NEED you right now?" Peter demanded irritably.
Her head snapped up and her eyes flashed. "No, they don't. But THEY are concerned about my safety. They said they preferred that I come in as a nurse and not as a patient!"
Todd pulled keys out of his pocket and rose to his feet. "Here, Kace, take the Cherokee. It's got 4-wheel drive, and will get you there and back in better shape than that tin can Peter drives."
Peter turned his black look on Todd, who laughed at him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Stay right there, Scrooge, old man. I'll escort the pretty lady to her vehicle. I wouldn't want you to run into Santa Claus and scare him away. I've been a good boy this year, and I intend to get my share of presents from his sack." Flinging a companionable arm around Kacie's shoulders, he walked her down the hallway, cheerily singing 'Jingle Bells'.
Peter felt all eyes resting upon him, and he fidgeted in his chair. "All right, why don't you all say it. I'm acting like a spoiled brat."
The entire table of Blaisdells chanted together, "You're acting like a spoiled brat."
He grinned sheepishly as his family burst into laughter.
Carolyn kicked him under the table. "Well, don't just sit there, you stupid dork. Go and tell her goodbye so she can stop feeling so bad."
Peter started to get to his feet, but froze in place when Todd returned, now whistling a disjointed version of 'Here Comes Santa Claus'. "Too late. She's gone. You know, Peter, I like being around you. You make me look so good in comparison, Carolyn realizes what a great catch I am."
Peter slumped down in his seat, shaking his head. "And what a great idiot I am."
"Don't worry about it, Peter. We've all known that for years," Kelly snickered.
Paul had been taking everything in, and sat with elbows on the table, chin resting on his hands. He sighed contentedly, and moisture glistened in his eyes. "God! You don't know how much I missed all this the past three years!" He sniffed and swallowed, reaching for Annie's hand and grasping it tightly. "The laughter, the teasing…even all the fighting and the tears. It's so good to be home!"
A log popped and crackled, and he started at the sound. Hearing the door open, he turned his head to see Annie walking in, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. "Mom, what are you doing up?"
Getting to his feet, he took the cups from her as she lowered herself to the floor, leaning her back against the couch. He handed her back a steaming cup before seating himself next to her.
Finally answering his question, she smiled. "You know I can't ever sleep until all my chicks are settled in the roost. I've got one not home yet."
"I know," was the gloomy reply.
She smiled again. "And I've got one not settled."
"You've got one that doesn't deserve…"
"Stop." The voice was gentle but firm. "For once, you're going to stop talking and just listen." She linked her arm through his and leaned her shoulder against his. "Peter, you are a passionate man." She laughed and bumped his shoulder with hers. "And I don't mean just sexually."
"Mo-o-om!" His face went hot and he shifted uncomfortably.
"Oh, stop. Your father and I are not exactly asexual, you know."
"Mo-om, if you want this conversation to continue, could you get a little less personal here?"
"Relax, Sweetie. Enough said about that subject." She took a sip of hot chocolate and lowered the cup, resting it on her leg. "What I'm trying to say is that you feel things very deeply, and you always have. Your highs are through the ceiling, and your lows are in the cellar; you don't do anything halfway."
"And that's bad?"
"No, that's just you, Peter."
"And that's bad?"
"Stop trying to put words into my mouth. I'm trying to tell you that you are very special to us all, and we love you very, very much. You are much harder on yourself than any of us ever have been, or ever could be, and I want you to stop sitting here brooding."
"Who said I was brooding?"
"You can't fool a blind chick, especially when she's your mother." Annie turned to him, running gentle fingertips over his face. "You're sitting here feeling guilty about snapping at Kacie over something that wasn't her fault. You know you made her miserable, and it was the last thing you wanted to do on Christmas Eve, or ever. And now you're wondering if she'll still be upset when she gets home, and, knowing you, you're asking yourself how someone as wonderful as she is, could ever have loved you, and you're afraid that she'll change her mind about the way she feels about you."
Peter drew a shaky breath and took a swallow of his now cooled drink, attempting to ease the tightness in his throat. Blinking against the sting of tears, he asked softly, "When did you become a mind reader?"
Annie smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder again, saying nothing.
"Oh, Mom." He sighed heavily. "I love her so much. How come I can be so mean to someone I care about more than anything else in this world?"
"You're jealous, Sweetie."
"What?"
"You're still at the stage of the game where you don't want to share Kacie with anyone or anything, and that includes her work. You want her with you all the time; you want to hear her voice and feel her touch and never ever be apart."
"How do you know all this stuff?"
She kissed his cheek and smiled. "You think you're the only person who was ever newly married and crazy in love?"
She started to get to her feet, and Peter hastened to help her up. "You be all right now, Peter?"
Kissing her forehead, he wrapped his arms around her. "I will be when Kacie gets home."
"You know where the extra pillows and blankets are, in case you want to stay by the fire tonight." There was a hint of laughter in Annie's voice as she turned to walk away. "Paul and I have passed many an evening enjoying the fire, if you know what I mean."
"I think I'm knowing a whole lot more than I want to know," Peter called after her, a bemused expression on his face. He paused a moment, and then headed for the linen closet with a purposeful stride.
"It's late. You shouldn't have waited up for me."
Peter winced at the icicles hanging from her words. {No more than I deserve.} Out loud he asked solicitously, "Can I warm you up a hot chocolate? Mom made some up, and you know how good it is." The olive branch was tendered.
Kacie rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. "Your mom makes the best hot chocolate. Marshmallows, too?" The ice started to thaw.
"I've got a fire going in the den." {I hate it when you're mad at me and you have every right to be.}
"A fire sounds nice. I need to decompress." {I hate it when we fight.}
Peter entered the den a few minutes later, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. He gracefully lowered himself cross-legged to sit next to Kacie, who was warming her hands over the fire.
Handing her a mug, he shyly asked, "You want me to warm up your plate? We made one up for you."
She stared into the flames. "No, thanks. I…had something at the cafeteria."
She sipped her hot chocolate, and as Peter watched her, he could see tears well up and spill over onto her cheeks, making shining trails down her face. "Oh, Honey, I'm sorry."
"I wanted to be here with you," she choked. "That's all I could think about all night. That I finally had a reason to feel like Christmas again. That I finally had a reason to feel like living again, and I couldn't even be-e he-ere wi-ith you."
Holding his mug in one hand and taking Kacie's from her, he set down both on the hearth and pulled her into his arms, holding her as she wept.
"Sweetheart, please don't cry. I've felt like a heel all night for taking your head off and hurting your feelings."
"It's not just that," she sobbed. "It's not just that. I miss…my family. I miss our holidays…together…I miss…their love…I …miss…them!"
He held her tighter, stroking her hair and rocking gently as he crooned soothingly in her ear.
At last she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and sniffled, content to snuggle in his arms. She whispered something so softly, he strained his ears to hear. "What did you say, Sweetheart?"
Sniffling once, she cleared her throat and repeated more loudly, "Being here in your arms is all I could want for every Christmas my whole life long."
He chuckled and kissed the side of her head. "You mean I can take all your other presents back?"
"Better not. I’m gonna need that new bottle of perfume."
"You peeked!" He held her away so he could look in her face, and scowled indignantly at her.
"Did not. You left the sack on the closet floor and I tripped over it."
"It wasn't on the floor; it was on the shelf, behind my dress uniform hat box. How did you manage to 'trip over it' up there?"
She giggled and ducked her head. "OK, so I peeked. What are you gonna do, arrest me?"
Grabbing her arms, he rolled down onto his back, pulling her with him. "I'm placing you under house arrest. You are now my prisoner."
Kacie slid her hands up under his sweater, spreading her palms over the flat muscles of his stomach. "And what are you going to do with me, Officer?"
"That's Detective, thank you very much." He pulled her blouse free from her jeans and snaked his hands under the fabric of her shirt and the bulk of her sweater to cup her breasts.
"Umm," she moaned softly. "I think this is called illegal search and seizure." Within seconds she'd unsnapped the waistband of his jeans and slowly eased down the zipper. She snuggled her hand between flesh and material and squeezed gently.
Peter groaned deep in his throat and shifted more fully into her grasp. Muttering huskily, he warned, "You're asking for a strip search here."
Clothing melted away, and the roaring fire was not the only source of heat in the room.
Kacie pressed her face against Peter's neck, gasping, "The door. We should…lock the door. Oh-h-h, God, Peter. HOW do you always find that exact spot?"
"The door?" Words barely registered in Peter's brain. "Who cares…about…the door. Mmm, Sweetheart! You can keep doing that for the whole twelve days of Christmas! Right there…harder…"
"Lock the door, Peter. I feel…decadent enough…knowing the whole family is upstairs. I don't want anyone walking in on the middle of…anything."
"You want me to lock the door? Now? Stop now? You're kidding, right?"
"Yes-s-s…I mean right now." She slid off the top of him and kissed him passionately. "Now go! Then hurry up and get back here before I forget where we were!"
Peter scrambled to his feet, muttering under his breath, "Lose my…train of thought." Quickly locking the door, he started back to the fire, then grabbed something off the table. As an afterthought, he braced a chair under the doorknob for good measure, testing it to see if it would hold.
Kacie propped herself up on her elbows and watched for his return, scratching one leg with the foot of the other in a most inviting way. She grinned at the huge bow Peter now wore. "Gee, Hon, is that for me?"
He paused before her, an equally wicked grin on his face. "If you think you can open it without waking up the whole house."
Running her tongue over her lips, she laughed evilly. "I can do quiet if I have to."
"Prove it."
"I intend to." Crawling to her knees, she started sliding her hands up his legs. "You're the one who'll have the problem being quiet."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because I am going to get that bow off without using my hands, and you have never been quiet when I do something like that." Looking up at him, she murmured, "Merry Christmas, Peter," and closed in on her target.
Bracing his hands on her shoulders, he groaned in ecstasy. "Happy New Year!"