A Husband For Christmas. Gail Gaymer Martin

the house. “Three bedrooms. Right now the smallest is sort of an office with my computer and some exercise equipment. The middle size is a guest room.” She raised her eyebrows. “Now all I need are guests. And the master bedroom is large and faces the back with a walk-in closet and master bath.”

      She didn’t step inside but raced through her descriptions, gesturing as he glanced into the three rooms. Her manner had changed since he’d stupidly asked the personal question about her future plans. He’d messed up, but then he’d done that before. He mumbled something about the attractive rooms and watched her edge toward the front door.

      Obviously she wanted out of the situation. He decided to give her a solution. “Thanks for the tour. I should get back to Kimmy.”

      She didn’t say a word but headed for the door.

      He followed her into the great room. “You have a nice place here, Nina.”

      She only nodded and opened the front door.

      His chest constricted. He had no doubt this was the end of their amiable relationship. And he knew it was for the best. He had nothing to offer except his preoccupation with his sister’s horrible situation and Kimmy’s needs. Then he had his own feelings, ones he disliked more than he wanted to face. Inadequacy had never been a word in his life until now. But when he’d opened his mouth to repair the damage he couldn’t even put a patch on it until he got himself and his head in the right place. Obviously a repair job was pointless. He’d made a mess of it, and of all things, he liked her.

       Chapter Two

      Despite her declaration to remain uninvolved, Doug’s image dangled in Nina’s thoughts like a mule’s carrot. His smile, his lost look, his fleeting glances rolled into a tempting nugget in her imagination. She opened her computer to occupy her mind with something other than Doug but when she stared at the monitor, her mind segued back to the block party. For someone who could evaluate promotional programs and manage entire brands, she failed when it came to her own life.

      Spending the morning with her thoughts spinning motivated her to break down the steps she used in her work to evaluate her own needs and goals. But the big question was how? How did she look with fresh eyes and see anything that wasn’t tangled in her past?

      She scooted her chair back and rose. Why did she waste time reliving her last conversation with Doug? She’d got in a huff, and when he left her house, she’d ushered him to the front door without a kind word, and the poor guy had no idea why. And she couldn’t explain it, either. Yes, he’d brought up a bad time, but that had been years earlier. Nothing could be done, so why dwell on it?

      She strode to the kitchen and poured coffee into a cup. The strong odor curled her nose so she poured it out, rinsed the cup and found a tea bag. Microwaves came in handy for a single cup of tea. Waiting, she opened the sliding door and gazed into the yard. Even though the season was late, she’d wanted to add some perennials that would come up next year. Angie’s yard looked lovely with fall blossoms.

      The buzzer sounded, and she headed back to her makeshift office with her cup of tea. Yet the tea didn’t help, either. Her mind flew from one idea for a client to the block party. She’d met a few neighbors, saying hello or responding with “Yes, I’m new on the block,” but still it was a beginning. She especially enjoyed meeting El. He embodied a rare spirit filled with wit, kindness and wisdom.

      El had an innocence about him—a man who trusted his instinct and didn’t question his decision to be friendly or look for motivation. That’s where she had failed. Any question that delved too deeply into her personal hang-ups or sorrows invaded her comfort level and she assumed the person was nosy or prying. Doug’s question had been general not probing.

      Draining the last of her tea, she rose and set the empty cup in the kitchen, grabbed her house key and stepped outside. The quiet of the street spilled over her, as empty as her teacup. The block party had resounded with voices, children laughing and music playing on a speaker somewhere. A few people had danced in the circular area of the street.

      How long had it been since she’d danced? Forever. She recalled Doug saying life had got in his way. She stood on her sidewalk, her eyes closed for a moment, picturing the friendly atmosphere of the Friday block party.

      As she walked, she spotted El sitting on a wooden glider in his front yard. Though she regretted not having a treat to offer him, she headed that way. Flowers bloomed in his flower beds, and she wanted to ask about them. Maybe he could offer her ideas on what would be good to plant this time of year.

      Thoughts returned again on her rudeness to Doug. She’d startled him as well as herself. Nearing El’s, she realized her motivation for coming was feeling alone. El had mentioned loneliness once, and today it overwhelmed her, a strange emotion with no solution other than to seek company. For years, she’d avoided company after Todd left, saying she didn’t care.

      Her heart skipped as she neared Doug’s house. His car sat back in the driveway signaling he was home, but she saw no sign of him. She should be relieved to avoid a confrontation, but instead, a guilty sting burned through her. She’d behaved terribly.

      El saw her coming and raised his hand in greeting. She waved back, glad for the distraction. As she stepped onto his lawn, he rose, planting his feet on the ground while hoisting himself from the glider without losing his balance.

      He grinned. “How are you this fine Sunday?”

      She nodded at his welcome and ambled toward him, hoping to look casual and not unnerved. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

      “Couldn’t ask the Lord for better.”

      The reference helped her understand El’s ways. He lived by the rules that people of the church took for granted. She’d known a few things about faith once, but she’d let her curiosity die. Had her divorce triggered her hopelessness? She couldn’t recall what ended her interest. Yet she sometimes envied those who had faith. They lived with the philosophy that life never ended. This world was only a stepping stone to something better. The idea that life held more than the here and now, though strange, had a comfortable ring to it. A spark warmed her again.

      El patted the seat on the swing. “Join me a minute.” He grasped the arm and sank back onto the slats.

      With her growing curiosity, she did as he suggested and sank beside him. “You have pretty flowers, El.” She twisted on her hip to face him. “You don’t mind that I call you El?”

      “Mind.” He tossed his head back with a chuckle. “That’s my name, and I’m hanging on to it.”

      He made her grin. “Okay, then. In case you forgot, I’m Nina.”

      “Pretty name. I wouldn’t forget that one.” He gave her arm a pat. “Thank you for mentioning the flowers. My wife always urged me to plant flowers. I was smart enough to learn that urging was one of those things that women did rather than just demand their husbands do it.”

      This time she chuckled. “Did your wife have favorite flowers?”

      “She sure did. She loved the ones that came up year after year. That’s mainly what you’re looking at—daisies, coneflowers, asters, and those purple ones are called catmint. I added a few geraniums. They’re faithful flowers, growing in nearly every environment.” He winked. “They’re not fussy.”

      “That’s one of the few flowers I know by name. But now I recognize the white daisies.”

      “Coneflowers are the colorful ones there.” He pointed to a bed of daisy-like blossoms. “Pretty things in so many colors.”

      “I want to do some planting. I have a few clumps of flowers in the front. I’m not sure what they are, but...” She relaxed against the seat back. “I finally have my new house organized.” She eyed him. “Sort of.”

      He chuckled, his gaze washing across her face as if he had questions