Calculated Risk by Zoe M. McCarthy Page A

needed to talk. If he was honest with her, maybe she’d…she’d what? Stop being herself? At least he could explain how Mom was collecting gems to support her cockamamie idea that he and Cisney belonged together. Hopefully, Cisney didn’t have similar ridiculous ideas about their relationship. That would top off the weekend.
    Tony entered, stripping off his shirt. “Fannie says we have to leave in twenty minutes. Grandma Thelma, Mom, and Aunt Ellie are working like crazy in the kitchen to have everything ready for the Holiday Blast. Should I head upstairs and let Cisney know?”
    “No. I think she’s on the phone with her parents. I’ll go up in a minute.”
    Tony went into the bathroom.
    Nick combed his hair. How should he approach Cisney? Why was he constantly feeling guilty when he’d done nothing wrong? Well, except for dropping Cisney’s hand. But why wouldn’t he act that way, when he had no control over false engagements, everyone loving Cisney, and Mom’s tears? At least, Dad seemed to understand boundaries. Why couldn’t they all be like Dad?
    Was he rationalizing? What was the real reason he’d reacted so rashly with Cisney? So unlike himself. Even shocked Grandpa.
    Nick sat on the bed. First off, the family’s expectations were pressuring him. But he probably added to the problem, disliking that Cisney’s laughter during the polka threatened his resolve to swear off relationships. He sighed. Better get upstairs and grovel.
    While he climbed the stairs to Cisney’s room, no concrete way to smooth things over formed in his mind. He knocked gently.
    She opened the door an inch, her head bowed against the low ceiling. Was the terrycloth material he glimpsed a towel, or a bathrobe?
    He leaned a hand against the wall and bent over so she could see him better. “We leave for the traditional Holiday Blast and movie in fifteen minutes. I know how you like family traditions, so…”
    She stared at him as if he were a door-to-door salesman. He held his ground and gave her what he hoped was a contrite expression.
    She returned a weak smile. “I think I’ll pass.”
    “Was that your parents who called?”
    “Yes. We didn’t talk long. It’s after midnight in Germany.”
    “Can we talk?”
    “I thought we were.”
    She was going to make this hard. “I mean, can you put on some clothes and either come out here, or let me in?”
    “I’m decent.” She drew the door open and stood aside for him to enter.
    Her yellow terrycloth bathrobe nearly reached the floor.
    He stooped and moved to a place where he could stand. She did the same.
    He motioned her toward a window chair, and then sat in the other. “You don’t know my mother. She worries I’m going to be a bachelor forever.”
    Pulling her robe tighter around her, she sat. “She sees me as a last chance.”
    She understood. Thank you, Lord. He plowed on, braver. “She and my whole family love you…”
    “But you don’t.”
    He gaped, searching for a response. None came.
    “I’m teasing you.”
    He shut his mouth. “I was a jerk down there—”
    “I know.”
    “Then why are you so forgiving?”
    “Because you crawling up here to “talk” is balm to my hurt ego.”
    He extended his hand toward her. “So come with us—”
    She tightened her grip on her bathrobe. “Don’t you dare grab my hand and pull me. I need to put some clothes on.”
    “You’ll come with us?” Why did he hope she’d say yes? Maybe he was tired of feeling guilty.
    “I wouldn’t be getting dressed to mope alone in my room, would I?”
    He stood, hunched over, and walked to the door. “Hurry downstairs. We’ll want to have lots of time for the Holiday Blast so we can make it to the movie in plenty of time. Fran and Fannie picked the show, so the previews may be the best part. And we’re picking up Allison.”
     
    ****
     
    Cisney scrambled to the seat in the rear of Roger’s van. Grandpa, Roger, and Bill hurried from the house carrying large paper sacks