Even though the statement was true, it felt like a criticism.
Rayna’s eyes dipped to the newspaper. It was open to the sports page, the section Krista usually skipped. Was Rayna into sports? She hadn’t been as a child. She didn’t have a cat, either, although Krista’s guess was that the one downstairs was hers.
“Where is Mom?” Krista asked.
Rayna didn’t look up. “She and Grandma left early for the nursery.”
Krista had missed her grandmother, just like she thought. She hadn’t considered her mother would be working at the shop today, too.
“Shouldn’t Mom be resting?” Krista asked.
“Sure should,” Rayna mumbled, eyes still on the page.
The topic was too important to let her sister’s lack of response dissuade her. “Then why isn’t she?” Krista persisted.
“Mom promised she’d take it easy,” Rayna said.
“Will she?” Krista asked. “Probably not.”
“Maybe I can make sure she doesn’t overdo it,” Krista said, thinking aloud.
Rayna’s eyes finally flickered upward. “Yeah. You do that.”
Krista tried not to take offense. She couldn’t expect her sister to instantly trust her. “Is Dad still here? Maybe I can hitch a ride with him.”
“Dad doesn’t drive, Krista,” Rayna said dryly.
Krista should have expected that. Her parents had purchased a handicap-accessible van before Krista moved to Europe but it hadn’t been equipped with hand brakes. Once again Krista wished she’d thought to reserve a rental car. “How will he get to work?”
“The Christmas Shoppe isn’t his thing.” Rayna waved an arm in a dismissive gesture. She wore a sterling silver bracelet with a heart-shaped charm dangling from it. Inside the charm was the name Trey. Was he Rayna’s boyfriend?
“But the nursery’s still open, right?” Krista asked. Her parents typically closed the business in January and February and reopened in March.
“They shut down early because of the Christmas Shoppe,” Rayna said. “Good thing, too. We’ve had a lot of ice this month. It’s hard for Dad when the weather’s bad.”
The first winter their father had been in a wheelchair, he’d struggled to get around. Krista hadn’t expected him to become a wheelchair whiz since then, but it hadn’t occurred to her that he’d be housebound.
“Where is Dad?” Krista asked.
“In his office,” Rayna said. “But don’t go in there. He doesn’t like being disturbed.”
So their father wasn’t only housebound, he was also a recluse. Suddenly in need of sustenance, Krista moved across the kitchen to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup. Rayna closed the newspaper and stood up. At thirteen, she’d been as tall as Krista and spindly. Now she topped Krista by a few inches and her figure verged on voluptuous.
“I’ve gotta get to work,” Rayna said.
“So you got your degree?” Krista ventured.
“No.” Rayna’s head shook slightly as she regarded Krista. “I got a part-time office job at a dental practice while I finish school.”
The implication was that Krista should have known that. In reality, Krista wasn’t even sure how Rayna had escaped getting roped into going into business with their parents at the nursery. “That’s great.”
“Whatever.” Rayna started to walk out of the kitchen.
“Rayna, wait,” Krista called. Her sister stopped but didn’t turn, making it even harder to ask for a favor. “Can you drop me at the shop on your way to work? Or someplace where I can rent a car?”
“The rental agency’s too far away,” Rayna said, “and work’s in the opposite direction.”
Before Krista could figure out where that left her, dogs started barking to the tune of “Jingle Bells.” The doorbell.
“That’ll be Alex,” Rayna said.
“Alex?” Some of the coffee in Krista’s cup sloshed onto her hand. If it hadn’t been lukewarm, she would have gotten burned. “What’s he doing here?”
“Grandma asked him to pick you up.” Rayna walked the rest of the way out of the room, leaving Krista to answer the summons.
The irony didn’t escape her that the man who’d criticized her last night was willing to give her a ride to the shop when her own sister was not.
THE FIVE MILES BETWEEN the Novaks’ house and their business traversed a rolling stretch of rural road that led to the sprawling downtown of Jarrell.
Alex drove his company pickup past a diner, a dry cleaner, a hardware store and a bank branch clustered within a few blocks. Giant fake snowflakes decorated the light poles, which he thought provided a nice festive touch.
“Not much has changed around here, has it?” Krista asked.
Jarrell’s population was less than five thousand but the town was only thirty minutes south of the city center of Harrisburg. Anything Alex needed, he could get without driving more than a half hour, including streams to fish, trails to hike and mountainous scenery to photograph.
“Some of us think that’s a good thing,” Alex said.
“I was never one of them,” Krista said. “When I left, I felt like the town was smothering me.”
“You said you’d suffocate if you didn’t leave.” Alex braked at a red light at the intersection where his favorite bakery was located. Sometimes in the mornings, he dropped in for a cinnamon-raisin bagel topped with cream cheese, one of the simple pleasures of life.
“I’m surprised you remember that,” Krista said.
Alex could call the moment instantly to mind. They’d been lying naked in each other’s arm, having just made love. Her cheeks had been flushed, her hair awry, her lips well-kissed. Alex had been about to surprise her with tickets to a concert at the Forum in Harrisburg, but he’d never gotten around to it. There wasn’t any point. The concert had taken place the day after she left town.
“Probably because it’s the opposite of how I feel about Jarrell,” he said. “The clean air makes breathing easy for me.”
“Lots of places have clean air,” Krista said.
“Only one of them is home,” Alex said, then felt frustrated at himself for getting in the last word. They weren’t arguing. He liked living in Jarrell and she preferred Europe. End of story.
The light turned green and he stepped on the accelerator, but not before noticing she’d lost none of the vibrancy that had first attracted him to her. She filled up the truck with her presence, her skin glowing with health, her hair shiny clean. Dressed in the red coat, she looked even more alive.
“I’m surprised you agreed to drive me,” Krista remarked.
“Happy to do it,” Alex said.
“Oh, come on,” she drawled. “Why don’t you just admit Grandma twisted your arm?”
Alex’s eyes left the road. She gazed back at him, her expression challenging. For a woman who should be suffering from jet lag, she was surprisingly lucid.
“You believe in speaking your mind, don’t you?” Alex asked.
“You didn’t mince words yesterday. Or just now, for that matter,” she pointed out. “It’s obvious you disapprove of me.”
Alex focused in front