A Ring For Christmas: A Bride by Christmas / Christmas Lullaby / Mistletoe Manoeuvres. Margaret Allison

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СКАЧАТЬ acorn Luke had placed in his hand, then slid the little nut into his pocket. He clamped one hand on Luke’s shoulder.

      “Bless you, son. Enjoy your pizza. Good night, Maggie. Farewell, Luke.”

      As Mason hurried away, the waitress appeared at the table and set a pitcher of soda in the center along with two glasses. Luke thanked the young girl, then filled the glasses. Maggie leaned forward, staring at Luke intently as she waited for an explanation about the bizarre interchange regarding the acorn. Luke glanced around.

      “Sure is getting crowded in here, isn’t it? That’s understandable, though, when you consider that they serve—”

      “The best pizza in Phoenix,” Maggie finished for him. “Would you care to explain what just happened here?”

      “The waitress delivered our soda,” Luke said, smiling. “Hey, they just called number eleven. We’re getting closer. Man, I’m starved.”

      “Luke,” Maggie said, smacking the table with the palm of her hand. Luke cringed. “What was that whole weird thing with your father about the acorn?”

      “Oh, that,” Luke said. “Did they just call number twelve?”

      “Luke,” Maggie said, narrowing her eyes and drumming the fingers of one hand on the top of the table. “The acorn. Now.”

      “You bet,” he said, nodding. “Well, it’s very simple. It’s good luck to carry an acorn on one’s person. We St. Johns have toted acorns around for years. Years and years. Never go anywhere without our acorns, by golly. So you can see why my father was so upset about having lost his and not wishing my poor mother to know. But—” he grinned “—I saved his bacon because I always have two. Insurance, you know what I mean?”

      Maggie leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s stupid,” she said.

      “It certainly is not,” Luke said indignantly. “One could become jinxed, experience endless lousy luck if one didn’t carry one’s acorn, Maggie. Remind me to find an acorn for you.” He paused. “Yo. They just called thirteen. That’s us. I’ll be back in a flash.”

      “But…” Maggie said, pointing one finger in the air, then realizing that Luke was long gone.

      All the St. Johns were superstition freaks? she thought incredulously. They were intelligent, highly educated people, lawyers and what have you, for heaven’s sake, but they flipped out if they lost their acorn? How weird was that?

      Luke interrupted Maggie’s racing thoughts by setting a huge, fragrant pizza in the center of the table, then sitting down again and rubbing his hands together.

      “Now that looks delicious,” he said, smiling. “Dig in and enjoy.”

      “I will, but…Luke, about this acorn thing. Your father didn’t say he’d experienced any bad luck or mishaps or whatever while his acorn was missing. Correct?”

      Luke nodded as he chewed a big bite of the hot pizza.

      “So,” Maggie continued, “doesn’t that suggest that there is nothing to the superstition surrounding the acorn? That it is just that—a superstition, which is fun and cute but…isn’t grounded in reality?”

      Luke stared into space. “You’ve got a point there. When I was a kid I left my acorn in the pocket of my jeans and my mom washed them, turned the acorn into a mushy mess. It was quite a while before I could find another one because it was the wrong time of year. Nothing bad happened to me except that I flunked a spelling test, which was my fault because I didn’t study for it.”

      Maggie picked up a slice of pizza and smiled, obviously pleased with herself. “See?” She took a bite of her dinner.

      “I’ll give this some serious thought,” Luke said. Oh, this was going great, even better than he had hoped for. “Wait a minute here.”

      “Hmm?” Maggie said, her mouth full of pizza.

      “I bet you didn’t know that if you say goodbye to a friend on a bridge you’ll never see each other again. Well, when I was fifteen I had this buddy. We did everything together, were really close. One summer we were riding our bikes and said goodbye at the end of the day on a bridge. I never saw him again. How do you like that?”

      “Why didn’t you ever see him again?” Maggie said.

      “Because of the bridge thing, Maggie.” Luke paused. “Well, not entirely, I guess. His dad was a creep, physically abused his mom and…She took off in the middle of the night with my buddy and disappeared.

      “I figured it was because of the parting on the bridge, but now that I really think about it…Well, hell, so much for the bridge belief.” He shook his head. “Amazing. All these years I was convinced…mmm.”

      Maggie smiled sweetly. “This pizza is delicious. Thank you for bringing me here.”

      “Sure, no problem,” Luke said, frowning. “This is rather unsettling. The acorn. The bridge. I don’t really have any concrete data to…Just goes to show ya, doesn’t it? Things aren’t always what they seem to be. Ready for some more soda?”

      “No, I’m fine,” Maggie said. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Luke. You got caught up in the theories about the acorn and the bridge, have believed them for so long you haven’t questioned their validity in years. I think you’re being very noble—there’s a good word—to accept that the superstitions about them aren’t real, aren’t true.”

      “You’re right,” he said, “and I have you to thank for showing me how ridiculous I was for buying into those tales.” He deserved an Academy Award for this performance, he really did. “Let’s just concentrate on the pizza now. This has been a pretty heavy topic for my weary brain. Enough for one night.”

      “Okay. Do you want to discuss Precious and Clyde’s wedding?”

      Luke smiled. “Maggie, I’d love to discuss the wedding. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

      “Well, the church is reserved for December twenty-third,” Maggie said, her voice ringing with excitement. “And I got the ballroom at the Majestic Palms Hotel sewn up for the reception.”

      “The Majestic Palms,” Luke said, nodding in approval. “Classy. Very nice.”

      “I have an appointment next week to meet with the chef to plan the buffet dinner at the reception. I still have oodles to do—you know, decide on the color of the tablecloths, the centerpieces, start shopping around for the exact shade of material I want for the bridesmaids’ dresses and, of course, there’s the wedding dress itself.”

      “Yep.”

      “What about the invitations, Luke? Do you think Precious and Clyde would prefer traditional ones that say the name of the parents or a more modern version where the couple themselves are inviting everyone to share their special event?”

      Uh-oh, Luke thought, then took a big bite of pizza to give himself time to consider his answer. The invitations couldn’t be ordered with Precious and Clyde’s names on them. They didn’t even exist. Think, St. John.

      “Um…why СКАЧАТЬ