Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(54)

“Bobby said I could decorate for Christmas however I wanted to.”

“Why all the trees?” Christie asked, forgetting about James for the moment. “How many are there, anyway?”

“Five.”

“Five decorated Christmas trees?”

“I love Christmas,” Teri announced.

“No kidding,” Christie muttered. She loved Christmas, too, but she could never have afforded anything like this—or had the space for it. “This must’ve cost a fortune.”

Teri smiled sheepishly. “Bobby doesn’t care, as long as I’m happy.”

Christie scowled at her. “It would be easy to hate you.”

Teri giggled. “None of this means anything without Bobby and the baby.” She rested her hand on the gentle swelling under her green velvet tunic.

Christie glanced around again, half expecting to find James standing awkwardly in the corner. He wasn’t. “Where’s James?” she asked, lowering her voice.

“He isn’t here yet.”

“James is late?” That didn’t sound like him.

“He isn’t coming,” Bobby said as he stepped into the room. “I’m sorry, Christie, I let the beans out of the bag.”

“Spilled the beans, sweetheart,” Teri corrected her husband. “Or let the cat out of the bag.”

Bobby nodded solemnly. “When I told him you’d be at dinner, too, James said he couldn’t make it.”

Christie shrugged. “Hey, it’s fine.” She removed her coat and draped it over the back of a chair, then left her purse there, too.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Teri said as she picked up Christie’s coat and hung it in the closet. When they’d walked into the kitchen together, Teri hurried over to the oven and opened the door to peek inside. “This is one of Bobby’s favorite dishes,” she explained.

Christie peeked, too, and couldn’t see anything special about the rice casserole. Her stomach had been upset most of the day and the truth was, she didn’t have much of an appetite. It was just as well James wasn’t coming or she wouldn’t have been able to eat at all.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Teri said. “I know you were looking forward to this evening.”

Christie shrugged again. “Hey, I’ve scared off better men than James.”

Teri said something Christie didn’t catch. “I’m so upset with him I can’t even tell you,” she added.

“Don’t worry about it. You suggested I approach James and when I couldn’t, you arranged this party and now it’s backfired. From my perspective this romance simply isn’t going to happen. C’est la vie.”

Teri raised her eyebrows. “You speak French now?”

Christie slapped her sister’s arm and they both giggled.

Dinner was pleasant enough, although Christie ate very little. She didn’t want Teri or Bobby to know how depressed she was, so she kept up a steady stream of chatter. As soon as she could, she made her excuses and gathered up her coat and purse. Besides, Teri looked tired. She’d been decorating and cleaning all day. Twice during the meal, Christie caught her sister yawning.

Bobby said good-night and disappeared into his study, then Teri walked her to the door. They both glanced up at the large three-car garage with James’s living quarters above. The lights were on, so he was obviously home.

“Talk to him,” Teri urged in a whisper.

Christie shook her head. “Forget it.” He didn’t want anything to do with her and in retrospect that was probably for the best. She had enough to deal with in her life without this aggravation.

“I’ll give you a call later. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday. I’m getting my first ultrasound, and he said I could have a picture of the baby.”

“Really?” Christie couldn’t wait to see that. They hugged goodbye and she headed for her car. As she slipped inside, her gaze fastened on the light coming from James’s apartment. Coward! As far as she was concerned, James Wilbur was a full-fledged coward. Fine. But she wasn’t chasing after him.

Christie inserted her key in the ignition.

Nothing.

It cranked and cranked and wouldn’t start.

Great, just great. She was stuck. Bobby Polgar wouldn’t be any help. All he knew was chess. Teri wouldn’t know what to do, either. And Christie wasn’t going to drag her pregnant sister out on a chilly night. There was no point in going in to phone the auto club, either, because she’d let her membership lapse years ago; she couldn’t afford it.

Reluctantly, Christie looked at the upstairs apartment. Apparently she was going to see James, after all. She trudged up the outside staircase and knocked twice, then stepped back and waited.

James opened the door wearing a suit. Christie wondered if he even owned a pair of jeans.

“My car won’t start,” she said without preamble.

“What about Triple A?” he asked, still holding the door handle as if he thought he might have to close it quickly.

“Do you think I’d be here pestering you if I was a member?” she asked sharply. She modulated her voice. “I would very much appreciate a ride home.”

“Of course. I’ll be just a moment.”