The Christmas Bouquet by Sherryl Woods Page A

on the table, no matter how crazy they might seem. It’s the only way I can think of that would be fair to both of us.”
    Her expression turned incredulous. “You want to make lists? Maybe assign numbers and rank the choices until something emerges as a winner?”
    Despite her derisive tone, he nodded. “Can you think of a way that’s any easier? If so, put it out there and we can talk about it. You’re the one who’s always claimed that lists help you to stay organized.”
    “Sure. I can check off the things I need to do, like picking up the dry cleaning or getting milk at the grocery store. Little stuff.”
    “Are you telling me you didn’t have lists when you were trying to decide which medical school you wanted to attend?” he asked, knowing better. There were Post-it notes all over the apartment with her to-do lists for everything, big and small.
    Instead of answering, she rested her head in her hands, then finally looked up. “I hate this, Noah. I hate that we suddenly find ourselves tiptoeing around, trying not to offend each other or pressure each other or declare war on each other.”
    He allowed himself a smile, even though the situation was far from amusing. “We’ve hardly declared war. I suggested we make a list. If you don’t like that idea, then tell me how you’d like to proceed, because you’re right about one thing. Drifting along isn’t the answer.”
    “Maybe we haven’t declared war yet, but it’s coming,” she said direly. “I’m afraid of that, Noah. Just as you said, once either of us digs in our heels, we’ll lose everything.”
    He saw the genuine misery in her eyes and pulled her up and into his arms. “We’re not going to lose anything,” he said firmly. “Not if we’re honest and if we love each other.”
    “I wish I believed that as strongly as you do.”
    He brushed another of those wayward curls that he loved from her cheek. “Then it’s a good thing I have enough faith for both of us.”
    * * *
    After a surprisingly tension-free meal, Cait went into the living room and found a legal pad and a pen, then returned to the kitchen table to sit across from Noah. He was right. Putting their thoughts on paper might help them to find clarity. At the very least they could eliminate anything either of them truly hated. That should narrow down the options.
    “Okay, let’s do it,” she said when she returned. “Let’s make a list.”
    Noah put the last of the clean dishes away and joined her at the table. “Maybe it should be two lists,” he suggested. “You make yours. I’ll make mine. Then we can see where there’s a workable overlap.”
    She nodded and handed over a piece of paper. She frowned when he immediately started jotting down notes.
    “You’ve obviously been thinking about this a lot,” she said.
    He glanced up. “And you haven’t?”
    “Well, sure. It’s all I’ve thought about, but you’ve obviously drawn some conclusions. I haven’t.”
    Noah flipped over his piece of paper. “Then let’s try this a different way. We’ll come up with relevant questions and each of us will write down our answers. Then we’ll compare notes.”
    “What sort of questions?”
    “Let’s start with where we see ourselves a year from now,” he suggested.
    Caitlyn nodded. That was easy enough. She’d be right here, working at the hospital and raising her baby. Noah would be...where? How did he fit into the picture? He wanted to be married, but she knew with absolutely certainty he didn’t want to be in Baltimore, no matter what he’d said earlier.
    She told herself not to get bogged down in trying to figure out his answers. The whole purpose of this was to focus on her own replies.
    “Okay, what next?” she asked after writing down her answer.
    “Where do we see ourselves in five years?” he suggested.
    That was easy, too. She’d be working in that village in Africa where she’d found such fulfillment. She glanced over at the latest photo she’d