Christmas Dinner (Crimson Romance) (10 page)

Whoa!
Where did that come from? She wasn’t in love with Tate. Having a
faux
boyfriend must be going to her head. Still, she had to admit, the lighter moments spent with him were helping her remember how much she really did enjoy this time of year. Making out with him was certainly the most enjoyable of those moments. The way his lips caressed hers . . .

“Amanda!” Alex’s girlfriend, Brenda, ran over to greet her. Always stylish since they were in high school, she had on a cute black ski jacket with matching black snow boots. Her mandatory sweater looked great with black tights.

“Brenda!” Amanda hugged her childhood friend. Brenda was a couple years older than Alex, but they had known each other almost all their lives.

Amanda wholeheartedly approved of the relationship. Brenda’s maturity and wholesomeness grounded her smart-aleck brother.

“I hoped to run into you this morning. It’s nice to see you with your clothes on.” She giggled.

Amanda drew back. “Not you, too? Did the whole town see us?”

“I thought for a second Alex orchestrated a Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus strip poker game upstairs and didn’t invite me!” she teased.

“Nope. Although it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he did organize one at some point this weekend. You still have some time to make your elf costume.” Amanda winked.

Brenda laughed and then gave Amanda a devilish grin. “So is the rumor true? Is your co-anchor the guy you brought home and got hot and heavy with last night? I couldn’t quite tell from down below.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Amanda brought her hand to her chest and feigned modesty. “I would never do anything of the sort.”

“Yeah, right. I think I know my best friend better than that,” Brenda fired back. “Dish, girl.”

They entered the house and proceeded to the kitchen. “Fine, yes, it’s true. Tate’s with Dad right now.”

Brenda let out a squeal and grabbed Amanda’s arm. “That’s awesome! I watch your news show on the Internet all the time. Man, Tate Ryan is one gorgeous guy.”

He sure is.
Brenda didn’t know the half of it. “He is, isn’t he?”

She leaned on the kitchen island feeling a little flushed from remembering how awesome Tate’s arms felt around her as he carried her to the bed. If she hadn’t moved out from under him would they have taken it further?

Perhaps she’d have to think up some reason to resume physical contact later today. Strategically hang some mistletoe around the house. Maybe over their bed. Now she was being silly, but gosh darn it, it felt good.

“Earth to Amanda.” Brenda waved her hand in front of Amanda.

“Sorry. She snapped back to the present and fanned her face. “Is it hot in here?”

“I’m fine.” Brenda smirked.

“So who else saw us?”

“Just Brad and me.”

“Really? So my mom wasn’t with you two?”

“God, no. How awkward would have that been? Hey, Mrs. Turner. Look up there. It’s your daughter doing a strip tease.” She laughed. “No. It was just the two of us. We were having a beer. Alex had gone to bed, but I still needed to unwind a bit.”

Amanda let out a huge sigh. “Thank goodness. I knew Brad was lying.”

“Lying about what?”

“Oh, nothing. He just insinuated that my mom had been out there, too.”

“Stirring the pot. That’s Brad for you.” She put her hand on Amanda’s shoulder. “Hey, how are you holding up?”

“I take it you are referring to Brad’s fiancée.”

“So you know?”

“Yep.” She reached for an empty mug on the counter and poured a cup of coffee.

“I’m sure none of this is easy on you, being around Melanie and the baby.”

“It’s okay. I think I’m making peace with all of it.”

Brenda arched an eyebrow.

“No. Really, I am.” Amanda shrugged and reached for the sugar bowl, scooping out a heap and mixing it into her coffee. “Melanie seems like a nice girl. Besides, I’ll be back in Wilmington way before the baby comes.”

“Baby comes?” Brenda asked. “Oh, you mean—”

Amanda’s mother walked into the kitchen. She was holding her finger to her mouth.

Amanda’s eyes narrowed. Was her mother instructing Brenda to stop talking?

“Amanda, I need you to bake an extra batch of sugar cookies. We’re running low.”

“Sure, Mom.” She put her hands on her hips. Something wasn’t quite right. They were keeping something from her. “But first I’d like to know what you two are hiding.”

Brenda pushed off the stool. “I should go. Lots to do today.”

Amanda raced over and blocked the back door. “No one leaves this room until I get some answers.” She eyed Brenda and then her mother. “Come on, you two,” she pleaded. “It’s Christmas, for God’s sake.”

Her mother was the first to speak. “Now’s not the time. We will have a long talk this afternoon after the deliveries.”

Amanda stayed frozen in position at the door, arms now crossed. She hated secrets, especially ones involving Brad.

“I will tell this whole town what you put in your sugar cookies if you don’t tell me right now,” she threatened. “All it would take is one phone call to the news station. I still have connections.”

“Fine.” Amanda’s mother sighed in defeat. “Honey, we just wanted to protect you.”

“Mom, I love you guys for wanting to spare my feelings, but I don’t need protection. Honestly, I don’t. I’m over Brad. He fell in love with someone—I can’t fault him for that; we were already broken up. Time has passed, he’s moved on. So did I. Nothing you could say about him would upset me.”

Brenda was the first to speak. “The baby they’re about to have is their second.”

Except that.

“Well, here we are. Our first stop.” Jack parked the truck in front of a tethered singlewide trailer.

Tate peered out the front windshield. They were at the last of several weather beaten trailers that lined the street.

“Our first delivery is to Kristen Bailey. She’s a single mother of two and works in the deli department of our town’s grocery. Nice lady. Every now and then she puts a little extra roast beef into my cart.” He winked and patted his belly.

“Her two girls are good kids. They really deserve a nice Christmas this year. Things have been pretty tough for them.”

Tate jumped out of the truck and shook off the residual pine needles. The ride over was short, and he’d enjoyed their casual conversation about the Yankees and Red Sox. It reminded him of similar moments with his dad. He was also grateful that Alex was off doing separate deliveries. If he could avoid Amanda’s brother for most of the day, it would probably be for the better.

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Jack said. “I average fifteen to twenty minutes per delivery. Keeps us on track for the day. Diane or one of her volunteers will be along shortly to drop off the ornaments and cookies.”

Tate followed him to the rear of the truck and looked back. He noticed a small pair of eyes peering out from a thick brown curtain, watching him intently. He waved, and the eyes disappeared behind the drapes.

Tate and Jack hauled the tree to the front porch. “Watch your footing. These steps look a little worn,” Jack cautioned. They maneuvered their way through the pieces of old furniture cluttering the enclosed porch. “Diane told me that Kristen reupholsters furniture for some extra cash.”

The door to the trailer flew open and a woman who appeared to be few years older than Tate greeted them. She was wearing a brown sweater and faded jeans, and her long brown hair was swept up in a messy bun. She greeted them with a wide smile. Her front tooth was chipped.

“Hi, Jack. Come on in. Please excuse the mess. I’ve been working on a few projects this month.”

Tate helped Jack carry the tree in. The warm trailer smelled of peppermint and stale smoke. “Good morning, ma’am.”

Kristen squinted her eyes. “Hi. Well, you’re certainly not Alex,” she said and reached her hand to her face. She tucked her wild strands behind her ear.

“No, no. I’m Tate.”

“Amanda’s boyfriend,” Jack interjected.

“Amanda! How is she? Is she still living down south?”

“Yes. Wilmington. Still a news anchor,” Jack replied.

“Well, we always knew she was going places. Didn’t we? Much too talented to stay around these parts.”

“You might see her later today. She’s helping her mother with the ornaments. Where would you like your tree?”

“In the living room in front of the window. I’ve cleared an area over there.” Kristen pointed to an empty space in front of the brown curtains.

Unlike the cluttered front porch, the living room was sparse, consisting of one worn tan couch and a matching tan chair. Two little girls were sitting on the carpet in front of a coffee table that was covered with construction paper, glitter, and markers. Their eyes were glued to the tree.

“You guys are just so wonderful. Real angels sent from up above.” She held an unlit cigarette in the air. “It’s been just me and the girls since their d-a-d skipped out last year. Honestly, with the way the economy is and gas prices are going, I didn’t think I’d be able to afford Christmas this year. I can’t thank you enough, Jack.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Jack said and winked. “Besides, it’s really the least I can do for the woman who ensures I get extra pulled pork each visit to the deli.” He patted Kristen’s shoulder.

“Ha, ha. I’m not sure if that puts me on your wife’s nice list or her naughty one.”

Jack laughed as he untied the Douglas Fir. Tate helped him lift it into the tree stand, but the tree’s trunk didn’t easily slide in.

“I have some tools in my truck. I’ll be right back.” Jack left the trailer.

Tate leaned the tree against the living room wall. He felt a short tug on his sweater.

“Would you like to help me and my sister decorate ornaments for our tree?” A young girl around five or six with mousy brown hair in a ponytail peered up at him with big round eyes.

“Chloe, I don’t think Tate has time to make ornaments. He has to help Mr. Turner deliver Christmas trees to other families.” Kristen gently ushered her daughter back to the coffee table. “Sorry,” she mouthed to him.

“I think I have time for one snowflake,” Tate offered. He sat down on the carpet next to Chloe.

She handed him a pair of children’s scissors and a white piece of construction paper. “Here, you can make a snowflake. Danielle is coloring the reindeer.”

“Thank you.” Tate smiled and made various zigzag cuts into the white paper. He remembered doing this himself when he was her age. He and his mother used to make homemade decorations for their tree. How quickly forgotten memories come back, he mused.

He glanced over at Danielle, who quietly filled in lines with a brown crayon. She looked to be one or two years younger than Chloe. “Hi. Do you like to color?” he asked.

Danielle ignored Tate’s question and continued to move her crayon back and forth.

“She doesn’t talk to strangers,” Chloe said. “She’s four, and I’m five.”

“That’s quite all right. So, Chloe, what are you asking Santa Claus for this year?”

“Oh, Santa doesn’t stop here.” She picked up a silver glitter stick and glided it across her snowflake.

“He doesn’t? Why not?” Judging by the trailer’s contents, he suspected he knew the answer.

She shrugged her tiny shoulders. “Momma says he runs out of time because we are the last trailer in the park. She said she talked to him at the mall, and this year, he wants to see our tree. We’ve been working hard on these decorations, so he’ll see our pretty tree from the window and want to come in.”

Tate’s heart melted. “Well, I’m sure he’s going to love these decorations. And you know what he’s going to want when he gets here?”

“What?” Chloe’s eyes widened.

“Christmas cookies! And you’re in luck. Some really nice ladies are going to bring you some later today to leave out for Santa.”

“Really? A boy in my class says that he leaves Christmas cookies out each year, and you know what?”

“What?” Tate was thoroughly amused with the conversation he was having with the five year old. He had forgotten what it was like to anticipate Christmas.

“Santa eats them all!” She giggled.

He laughed with her. “I’m sure he does.” Jack had returned with his tools. “How does this look?” He handed the snowflake to Chloe and stood up to help Jack.

“Beautiful!” she screamed.

Minutes later, the plump Douglas Fir stood magnificently inside the trailer. Its pine scent filled the air. Even undecorated, Tate marveled at how exquisite it was.

“Here.” Chloe handed Tate his snowflake. “Put it on the tree.”

He took the white cutout from her tiny hand and kneeled down, poking the snowflake gently through a branch. “How about right here?”

“Perfect,” Chloe said. She placed the snowflake she had made next to his.

“Hey, Tate. You about ready?” Jack called from the doorway.

“Yes, sir.” He lowered his hand to shake Chloe’s tiny one. From her puzzled expression, he knew she didn’t know what to do with it. He reached for her hand and gently shook it. “Merry Christmas, Chloe. You too, Danielle.”

Chloe continued to hold onto his hand. “Will you come back and see our tree tonight? Maybe you could come back for dinner? We’re having spaghetti and meatballs!”

“Christmas Eve dinners are my favorite because you know what that means?”

“What?”

“Leftovers!” He squeezed Chloe’s hand.

“Pleeeeeeease come back,” she pleaded.

He let go of her hand and patted her head. “If I can, I will.” His eyes met Kristen’s and guilt washed over him. They both knew he wouldn’t be returning.

He paused in the short doorway and waved goodbye. Danielle gave him a shy wave.

“Looks like you made two little friends.” Jack opened the door and motioned for Tate to go first.

Tate smiled. His eyes were watering. “Will this day get any easier?”

“No. Not really.” Jack headed toward the truck. “But it may just put your life into perspective.”

“I think it just did.”

• • •

Amanda added all of the ingredients from her mother’s sugar cookie recipe into a large mixing bowl. After helping make these cookies for so many years, she knew the recipe by heart. Her hand clenched the wooden spoon as she mixed in the eggnog. Batter flew out of the bowl and onto the floor.