1
MARK
“Oh, my goodness, Mark get in here, it’s so cold out there.”
I was very glad that Karen DeBoise did not make me wait on the front stoop for very long after I rang the doorbell.
I stepped inside. The house was warm and smelled of the impending holiday.
“Oh, this looks like a good vintage,” she cooed when I handed her the bottle of wine I had brought. I shrugged out of my coat and being familiar with the DeBoise household, I put my coat away in the hall closet. I pulled the knit cap from my head and tucked it into my coat pocket.
I ruffled and then smoothed out my hair. Having my hair look smashed down from wearing hats was never a good look, but it was unseasonably too cold not to be wearing one.
“Come on in, the kids are playing video games in the bonus room.”
I followed her deeper into the house. A tall Christmas tree blocked the floor-to-ceiling picture window. Garlands and displays of bright red ornaments decorated the rest of the home. Karen was always one to decorate no matter the holiday.
I followed Karen into her kitchen. The warm smells of roast and nutmeg were stronger there. I could only assume Karen had spent the better part of her day preparing tonight’s dinner, but her kitchen was immaculate. Her entire house always was. Showroom perfect.
“Is this a chill or a warm?” she asked, holding up the bottle.
“That’s a room temp wine.” I had no doubt that she actually knew how to serve the wine and was testing me to see if I knew.
“Peyton has cocktail makings out if you want to serve yourself.” She pointed with a bob of her hand toward the great room on the other side of the kitchen.
“I’ll just have a beer,” I said as I opened the refrigerator.
“You know where to find them.” She had turned her back on me and was doing something at the stove.
When I righted myself and closed the refrigerator door, I was caught off guard by a beautiful smiling face. I gulped. Beautiful women didn’t usually have an impact on me like that. There was something familiar about this one. I felt I should know her. But she smiled at me as if she knew me.
“Hey, Doctor Mark, how are you doing?”
I gulped. “Yeah, good.”
She breezed past me and opened the fridge. When she closed it again, she held two beers. She looked at me again, gave a little shrug, and turned and left. She climbed the stairs that led to the bonus room. I watched her shapely ass wiggle up the stairs in a pair of tight yoga pants, that should be illegal for the thoughts that were rushing into my head.
I looked over my shoulder at Karen to make sure she hadn’t seen me stare like a frat boy at her guest.
“When you said kids were upstairs, you meant Peyton too right?”
“Yeah, go on up.” I had been dismissed.
“Who else is here?”
“Just the kids. Dinner should be ready in fifteen, twenty minutes tops.”
Just the kids? Karen and Peyton’s kids were kids. Teenagers the last time I saw them. If that woman wasn’t a guest, she had to be…
“Was that Brooke?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You’re letting her drink beer now?”
“Are you all right?” Karen laughed. She turned and leaned a hip against the counter. “She is twenty-four. I pretty much don’t have a say in letting her drink if she wanted to.”
I choked on the drink in my mouth.