“Me, neither,” Wynn confessed. “This seems to be the season for it, though.”
While Wynn waited in line for the chestnuts, K.O. became fascinated with the merry-go-round. “Will you go on it with me?” she asked him.
Wynn hesitated. “I’ve never been on a merry-go-round.”
K.O. was surprised. “Then you have to,” she insisted. “You’ve missed a formative experience.” Taking his hand, she pulled him out of the line. She purchased the tickets herself and refused to listen to his excuses. He rattled off a dozen—he was too old, too big, too clumsy and so on. K.O. rejected every one.
“It’s going to be fun,” she said.
“I thought you were starving.”
“I was, but I’m not now. Come on, be a good sport. Women find men who ride horses extremely attractive.”
Wynn stopped arguing long enough to raise an eyebrow. “My guess is that the horse is generally not made of painted wood.”
“Generally,” she agreed, “but you never know.”
The merry-go-round came to a halt and emptied out on the opposite side. They passed their tickets to the attendant and, leading Wynn by the hand, K.O. ushered him over to a pair of white horses that stood side by side. She set her foot in the stirrup and climbed into the molded saddle. Wynn stood next to his horse looking uncertain.
“Mount up, partner,” she said.
“I feel more than a little ridiculous, Katherine.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. Men ride these all the time. See? There’s another guy.”
Granted, he was sitting on a gaudy elephant, holding a toddler, but she didn’t dwell on that.
Sighing, Wynn climbed reluctantly onto the horse, his legs so long they nearly touched the floor. “Put your feet in the stirrups,” she coaxed.
He did, and his knees were up to his ears. K.O. couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing.
Wynn began to climb off, but she stopped him by leaning over and kissing him. She nearly slid off the saddle in the process and would have if Wynn hadn’t caught her about the waist.
Soon the carousel music started, and the horses moved up and down. K.O. thrust out her legs and laughed, thoroughly enjoying herself. “Are you having fun yet?” she asked Wynn.
“I’m ecstatic,” he said dryly.
“Oh, come on, Wynn, relax. Have some fun.”
Suddenly he leaned forward, as if he were riding for the Pony Express. He let out a cry that sounded like sheer joy.
“That was fun,” Wynn told her, climbing down when the carousel stopped. He put his hands on her waist and she felt the heat of his touch in every part of her body.
“You liked it?”
“Do you want to go again?” he asked.
The line was much longer now. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ve always wanted to do that. I felt like a child all over again,” he said enthusiastically.
“A Free Child?” she asked in a mischievous voice.
“Yes, free. That’s exactly what my book’s about, allowing children freedom to become themselves,” he said seriously.
“Okay.” She was biting her tongue but managed not to say anything more. Surely there were great rewards awaiting her in heaven for such restraint.
“Would you like to stop at the bookstore?” he asked. “I like to sign copies when I’m in the neighborhood.”
“You mean an autographing?” She hoped it wouldn’t be at the same bookstore that had caused all the trouble.
“Not exactly an autographing,” Wynn explained. “The bookseller told me that a signed book is a sold book. When it’s convenient, authors often visit bookstores to sign stock.”
“Sort of a drive-by signing?” she asked, making a joke out of it.
“Yeah.” They started walking and just as she feared, they were headed in the direction of the bookstore.
As they rounded the corner and the store came into sight, her stomach tightened. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she said, implying that nothing would please her more than to linger out in the cold.
“Nonsense. There’s a small café area where you can wait in comfort.”
“Okay,” she finally agreed. Once she’d made it past the shoplifting detector K.O. felt more positive. She was afraid her mug shot had been handed out to the employees and she’d be expelled on sight.
Thankfully she didn’t see the bookseller who’d asked her to leave. That boded well. She saw Wynn chatting with a woman behind the counter. He followed her to the back of the store. Some of the tension eased from K.O.’s shoulder blades. Okay, she seemed to be safe. And she didn’t have to hide behind a coffee cup. Besides, she loved to read and since she was in a bookstore, what harm would it do to buy a book? She was in the mood for something entertaining. A romantic comedy, she decided, studying a row of titles. Without much trouble, she found one that looked perfect and started toward the cashier.
Then it happened.
Wynn was waiting up front, speaking to the very bookseller who’d banished K.O. from the store.
Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, K.O. set the book aside and tiptoed toward the exit, shoulders hunched forward, head lowered.
“Katherine,” Wynn called.
With a smile frozen in place, she turned to greet Wynn and the bookseller.
“It’s you!” The woman, who wore a name tag that identified her as Shirley, glared at K.O.
She timidly raised her hand. “Hello again.”
“You two know each other?” Shirley asked Wynn in what appeared to be complete disbelief.
“Yes. This is my friend Katherine.”
The bookseller seemed to have lost her voice. She looked from Wynn to Katherine and then back.
“Good to see you again,” K.O. said. She sincerely hoped Shirley would play along and conveniently forget that unfortunate incident.
“It is you,” Shirley hissed from between clenched teeth.
“What’s this about?” Wynn asked, a puzzled expression on his face. “You’ve met before?”
“Nothing,” K.O. all but shouted.
“As a matter of fact, we have met.” Shirley’s dark eyes narrowed. “Perhaps your friend has forgotten. I, however, have not.”
So it was going to be like that, was it? “We had a difference of opinion,” K.O. told Wynn in a low voice.
“As I recall, you were permanently banned from the store.”
“Katherine was banned from the store?” Wynn asked incredulously. “I can’t believe she’d do anything deserving of that.”
“Maybe we should leave now,” K.O. suggested, and tugged at his sleeve.
“If you want to know,” Shirley began, but K.O. interrupted before she could launch into her complaint.
“Wynn, please, we should go,” she said urgently.
“I’m sure this can all be sorted out,” he murmured, releasing his coat sleeve from her grasp.
Shirley, hands on her hips, smiled snidely. She seemed to take real pleasure in informing Wynn of K.O.’s indiscretion.
“This friend of yours is responsible for causing a scene in this very bookstore, Dr. Jeffries.”
“I’m sure no harm was meant.” K.O. grabbed his arm. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, desperate to escape.
“Katherine does tend to be opinionated, I agree,” he said, apparently determined to defend her. “But she’s actually quite reasonable.”
“Apparently you don’t know her as well as you think.”
“I happen to enjoy Katherine’s company immensely.”
Shirley raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Then you might be interested to know that your so-called friend nearly caused a riot when she got into an argument with another customer over your book.”
Wynn swiveled his gaze to K.O.
She offered him a weak smile. “Ready to leave now?” she asked in a weak whisper.
Chapter
8
K.O.’s door
bell chimed, breaking into a satisfying dream. Whatever it was about seemed absolutely wonderful and she hated to lose it. When the doorbell rang again, the sound longer and more persistent, the dream disappeared. She stumbled out of bed and threw on her flannel housecoat.
Reaching the door, she checked the peephole and saw that it was LaVonne. No surprise there. Unfastening the lock, K.O. let her in, covering a yawn.
“What time did you get home last night?” her neighbor cried as she hurried in without a cat—which was quite unusual. “I waited up as long as I could for you.” LaVonne’s voice was frantic. “I didn’t sleep a wink all night,” she said and plopped herself down on the sofa.
K.O. was still at the front door, holding it open. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Should I make coffee?” LaVonne asked, leaping to her feet and flipping on the light as she swept into the kitchen. Not waiting for a response, she pulled out the canister where K.O. kept her coffee grounds.
K.O. yawned again and closed the front door. “What time is it?” Early, she knew, because her eyes burned and there was barely a hint of daylight through her living room windows.
“Seven-twenty. I didn’t get you up, did I?”
“No, I had to answer the door anyway.” Her friend was busy preparing coffee and didn’t catch the joke. “How are the guys?” K.O. asked next. LaVonne usually provided her with daily updates on their health, well-being and any cute activities they’d engaged in.
“They’re hiding,” she said curtly. “All three of them.” She ran water into the glass pot and then poured it in the coffeemaker.
Katherine wondered why the cats were in a snit but didn’t have the energy to ask.
“You haven’t answered my question,” LaVonne said as the coffee started to drip. She placed two mugs on the counter.
“Which one?” K.O. fell into a kitchen chair, rested her arms on the table and leaned her head on them.
“Last night,” LaVonne said. “Where were you?”
“Wynn and I were out—”
“All night?”
“You’re beginning to sound like my mother,” K.O. protested.
LaVonne straightened her shoulders. “Katherine, you hardly know the man.”
“I didn’t sleep with him, if that’s what you think.” She raised her head long enough to speak and then laid it down on her arms again. “We went out to dinner with some friends of mine after the Figgy Pudding contest.”
“It must’ve been a very late dinner.” LaVonne sounded as if she didn’t quite believe her.
“We walked around for a while afterward and went out for a drink. The time got away from us. I didn’t get home until one.”
“I was up at one and you weren’t home,” LaVonne said in a challenging tone. She poured the first cup of coffee and took it herself.
“Maybe it was after two, then,” K.O. said. She’d completely lost track of time, which was easy to do. Wynn was so charming and he seemed so interested in her and her friends.
Vickie’s husband, John, was a plumbing contractor. Despite Wynn’s college degrees and celebrity status, he’d fit in well with her friends. He’d asked intelligent questions, listened and shared anecdotes about himself that had them all laughing. John even invited Wynn to play poker with him and his friends after the holidays. Wynn had accepted the invitation.
Halfway through the meal Vickie had announced that she had to use the ladies’ room. The look she shot K.O. said she should join her, which K.O. did.
“That’s really Wynn Jeffries?” she asked, holding K.O.’s elbow as they made their way around tables and through the restaurant.
“Yes, it’s really him.”
“Does he know about the bookstore?”
K.O. nodded reluctantly. “He does now.”
“You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“Unfortunately, he found out all on his own.”
Vickie pushed open the door to the ladies’ as K.O. described the scene from the bookstore. “No way,” her friend moaned, then promptly sank down on a plush chair in the outer room.
K.O.’s face grew red all over again. “It was embarrassing, to say the least.”
“Was Wynn upset?”
What could he say? “He didn’t let on if he was.” In fact, once they’d left the store, Wynn seemed to find the incident highly amusing. Had their roles been reversed, she didn’t know how she would’ve felt.
“He didn’t blow up at you or anything?” Vickie had given her a confused look. “This is the guy you think should be banned from practicing as a psychologist?”
“Well, that might’ve been a bit strong,” she’d said, reconsidering her earlier comment.
Vickie just shook her head.
“He rode the merry-go-round with me,” K.O. said aloud, deciding that had gone a long way toward redeeming him in her eyes. When she glanced up, she realized she was talking to LaVonne.
“He did what?” LaVonne asked, bringing her back to the present.
“Wynn did,” she elaborated. “He rode the carousel with me.”
“Until two in the morning?”
“No, before dinner. Afterward, we walked along the waterfront, then had a glass of wine. We started walking again and finally stopped for coffee at an all-night diner and talked some more.” He seemed to want to know all about her, but in retrospect she noticed that he’d said very little about himself.
“Good grief,” LaVonne muttered, shaking her head, “what could you possibly talk about for so long?”
“That’s just it,” K.O. said. “We couldn’t stop talking.” And it was even more difficult to stop kissing and to say good-night once they’d reached her condo. Because there was so much more to say, they’d agreed to meet for coffee at the French Café at nine.
LaVonne had apparently remembered that Katherine didn’t have any coffee yet and filled her mug. “Just black,” K.O. told her, needing a shot of unadulterated caffeine. “Thanks.
“Why were you waiting up for me?” she asked after her first bracing sip of coffee. Then and only then did her brain clear, and she understood that LaVonne must have something important on her mind.
“You wrote that fantastic Christmas letter for me,” her neighbor reminded her.
“I did a good job, didn’t I?” she said.
“Oh, yes, a good job all right.” LaVonne frowned. “I liked it so much, I mailed it right away.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“Well…” LaVonne sat down in the chair across from K.O. “It was such a relief to have something clever and…and exciting to tell everyone,” LaVonne said, “especially my college friends.”
So far, K.O. didn’t see any problem at all. She nodded, encouraging her friend to get to the point.
LaVonne’s shoulders sagged. “If only I’d waited,” she moaned. “If only I’d picked up my own mail first.”
“There was something in the mail?”
LaVonne nodded. “I got a card and a Christmas letter from Peggy Solomon. She was the president of my college sorority and about as uppity as they come. She married her college boyfriend, a banker’s son. She had two perfect children and lives a life of luxury. She said she’s looking forward to seeing me at our next reunion.” There was a moment of stricken silence. “Peggy’s organizing it, and she included the invitation with her card.”
“That’s bad?”
“Yes,” LaVonne wailed. “It’s bad. How am I supposed to show up at my forty-year college reunion, which happens to be in June, without a man? Especially now. Because of my Christmas letter, everyone in my entire class will think I’ve got more men than I know what to do with.”
“LaVonne, you might meet someone before then.”
“If I haven’t met a man in the last forty years, what makes you think I will in the next six months?”
“Couldn’t you say it’s such a tricky balancing act you don’t dare bring any of them?”
LaVonne glared at her. “Everyone’ll figure
out that it’s all a lie.” She closed her eyes. “And if they don’t, Peggy’s going to make sure she tells them.”
Another idea struck K.O. “What about your psychic powers? Why don’t you go check out the litter box again?” On second thought, maybe that wasn’t such a great idea.
“Don’t you think I would if I could?” she cried, becoming ever more agitated. “But I don’t see anything about myself. Trust me, I’ve tried. So far, all my insights have been about you and Wynn. A lot of good my newfound talent has done me. You’re being romanced night and day, and I’ve just made a complete fool of myself.”
“LaVonne…”
“Even my cats are upset with me.”
“Tom, Phillip and Martin?” K.O. had never understood why her neighbor couldn’t name her feline companions regular cat names like Fluffy or Tiger.
“They think I’m upset with them. They’re all hiding from me, and that’s never happened before.”
K.O. felt guilty, but she couldn’t have known about the college reunion, any more than LaVonne did. “I’m sure everything will work out for the best,” she murmured. She wished she had more than a platitude to offer, but she didn’t.
“At this point that’s all I can hope for.” LaVonne expelled her breath and took another sip of coffee. That seemed to relax her, and she gave K.O. a half smile. “Tell me about you and Wynn.”
“There’s not much to say.” And yet there was. She honestly liked him. Vickie and John had, too. Never would K.O. have guessed that the originator of the Free Child movement she so reviled would be this warm, compassionate and genuinely nice person. She would’ve been happy to settle for one of those qualities. Despite everything K.O. had done to embarrass him, he was attracted to her. And it went without saying that she found Wynn Jeffries compelling and smart and…wonderful. But she was afraid to examine her feelings too closely—and even more afraid to speculate about his.
“You’ve spent practically every minute of the last two days together,” LaVonne said. “There’s got to be something.”
Shrugging, K.O. pushed her hair away from her face.
“You were with him until two this morning.”
“And I’m meeting him at the café in about an hour and a half,” she said as she glanced at the time on her microwave.