The Christmas Stocking by Fern Michaels

Author:Fern Michaels [Michaels, Fern]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The Rafters was a secluded restaurant perched high on a hill. In the fall and winter when the trees were bare, the nation’s capitol could be seen in the distance. It wasn’t necessarily the kind of eatery where one went to be seen—just the opposite, as it afforded privacy and small rooms where one could dine without worrying about people stopping by to say hello. It was rumored that more than one senator and congressmen had dalliances in the private rooms. The owners of the establishment, the ladies Harriet and Olivia Neeson, were quick to deny all such rumors.

Sam Moss had called ahead for a reservation and was assured by Harriet, who had been a dear friend of his wife, Sara, that she would reserve the best table in the house.

Sam and Tillie were halfway through the meal when Sam realized he was enjoying himself. He liked the witty, sharp-tongued Tillie Baran. He knew he was going to be sorely disappointed if this outing turned out to be solely about Christmas trees.

It had been ages, years actually, since he’d dined out. He always felt like a fish out of water sitting down in a restaurant by himself. When Sara was alive, they ate out every Saturday and Sunday to give her a break from cooking. He’d liked the fact that they both got slicked up. Sara preferred to say they got dressed up. Before his date with Tillie he’d dithered about what to wear and had trouble deciding if he should get dressed up. Finally, he settled on one of his vintage sport jackets. He was glad now that he hadn’t gone the suit-and-tie route, because Tillie was dressed casually. She smelled so good he kept sniffing her over the delectable aromas emanating from the kitchen. Yes sireee, he was enjoying himself.

Tillie looked up from her pecan-crusted salmon she was eating and said, “I can’t help but notice how you keep sniffing, Sam. Do I still smell like mothballs?”

“No, no. I’m trying to decide which smells better, the aromas from the kitchen or your perfume. It’s been a long time since I smelled perfume. The truth is, I haven’t been out with a lady since Sara died.”

Tillie pushed her plate away. “I can top that, Sam. I haven’t been with a man in twenty-eight years. What I mean is, I haven’t…never mind. It must have been very hard on you when Sara passed away. My husband…it was different. I know you and Sara were very happy.”

Sam saw that his dinner companion was becoming agitated. “That was all a long time ago. Life goes on whether we like it or not. Let’s talk about more pleasant things.”

“How about we get down to business and talk about trees?” Tillie said bluntly.

“I can do it, Tillie, but it’s going to pose a big problem for me. Unless we can come up with some way…Look, I’m on shaky ground where my son is concerned. We’re being civil to one another but our relationship is very strained.

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