Christmas Steele (12 page)

“Dad,” Lacy intoned, feeling like a teenager
again.

“What, Lacy? I’m your dad, I’m not blind.
What’s really going on between you two?”

“Nothing,” Lacy said. “I promise. We’re
friends, and we have a slight attraction to each other.”

“Like a moth to a flame,” her father said.
“I’m not sure either of you even knew I was standing there even
though I was doing my best to put out the overprotective father
vibe.”

“Dad,” Lacy said again, laughing. “Stop it.
He and I are friends.”

“Are you friends like this with the other
one? What’s his name, your grandma’s pastor?”

“Tosh and I are very good friends,” Lacy
said. “He’s probably the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Her dad shook his head. “Here you are in our
tiny hometown, getting caught up in love triangles and murders. I
think I would prefer you to move back to Manhattan. It was safer
and less exciting.”

“Dad,” she said, shoving lightly at his arm.
He caught her around the neck in a loose headlock and planted a
kiss on her cheek.

“Are you happy here, little girl?” he asked
when they were in the car, his tone turning serious.

“I…” Her first instinct had been to say no.
How could she be happy in her crummy little hometown? But then she
realized she was happy. She had her grandparents, whom she adored,
as well as Tosh and Jason who kept things interesting. “I am,” she
said with confidence, surprised by how much she meant the
words.

“Good. Stay that way. And stay away from
boys.”

“Even Jason?” Lacy said. “It sounds like he’s
your dream guy.”

Her father shook his head. “I told your
mother I wanted sons,” he muttered. “The woman never listens to
me.”

Lacy laughed and spent the rest of the
afternoon laughing as she and her dad bought the necessary supplies
before breaking into Jason’s house.

“Are you sure a single man lives here?” her
dad asked when they walked inside the sparkling clean house.

“I know, it’s disconcerting, isn’t it?” Lacy
agreed.

“I can tell you for sure that my house
wouldn’t look like this if I didn’t have your mom to nag me about
cleaning up.”

Lacy nodded, but the words were a reminder
that not everything in her world was perfect. Something was up
between her parents; she could feel it. But it was Christmas Eve,
and she didn’t want to dwell on it today. Instead they set up the
tree she’d bought, sticking it in a lone corner of the room. Lacy
unfurled the tree skirt and they strung lights and ornaments. When
that was finished, she set a few presents under the tree, knowing
it would look lonely without something underneath. Knowing also
that Jason would be uncomfortable if she bought him too much, she
instead made the tree his big present, bought him some stocking
stuffers, and set out some toys to be donated to a charity for kids
whose parents were in prison.

“There,” she said, stepping back to look at
the tree in satisfaction.

“Looks good,” her father said, resting his
arm on her shoulders as they admired their handiwork. She decided
to leave the tree plugged in, knowing at some point Jason would
drive by his house and notice the lights. They were lucky he hadn’t
driven by already and noticed the strange car parked in his
drive.

“We should get out of here,” Lacy said. “He
could come home at any moment, and I wasn’t quite kidding about the
gun.” They hurriedly cleaned up and hustled outside, feeling very
cloak and dagger at having pulled off their surprise.

“Why did we do that?” her father asked as
they were driving away.

“What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t he have a tree already?”

“Jason doesn’t have the best relationship
with his parents. He doesn’t talk about it, but I think holidays
are painful for him. He lost a brother when he was little. It’s
sad; he’s basically all alone in the world.”

“Not so alone. He has you, and you really
care about him, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Lacy said resignedly. At the
very least they were friends, but friendship wouldn’t quite explain
why she couldn’t seem to get him off her mind.

“Lacy Cantor,” her father teased.

“Dad,” she said, responding with appropriate
embarrassment.

“You’re right,” her father said. “I suppose I
should reserve judgment until I meet the other one. Tish, was
it?”

“Tosh,” Lacy said, knowing very well that her
father remembered his name. “So much for remaining neutral.”

“I’m Switzerland,” her father said. “Whoever
you choose to be with is your decision. Just so long as he played
quarterback at some point in his life, I couldn’t care less who you
marry. Of course, pastors have high divorce rates.”

“Dad,” Lacy exclaimed. “Tosh is great, and
you’re going to love him. If you don’t, I’ll buy you breakfast the
day after Christmas.”

“Deal,” her father said, holding out his hand
to shake on it. They shook, and he let her go, pointing to a
restaurant on his left. “There’s where I want to go for my
breakfast.”

“So much for neutrality,” she muttered,
turning to stare out her window with a sigh.

Chapter 12

The house didn’t feel very festive when Lacy
and her father arrived home. Her mother was in the living room,
flipping through a magazine with such ferocity that she risked
ripping out the pages.

“Mom,” Lacy said tentatively, “everything
okay?”

“Of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be
okay? Just because a stranger is in the kitchen, working with my
mother like he owns the place. It’s fine. Everything is just
fine.”

Lacy sat and pried the magazine from her
mother’s clutch. Capturing both her hands, she clasped them tightly
in hers, waiting to speak until she had her mother’s full
attention. “Mom, it’s not just Grandma who loves Mr. Middleton. I
love him, too. You can’t imagine how much he’s come to mean to me
the last few months. He’s not only loving and caring, but he’s
incredibly wise. I’ve come to feel that’s he’s a surrogate
grandfather, which is nice because I miss Grandpa a lot. I’m not
saying he has to take the place of your dad, but he’s important to
me, and he’s important to Grandma. That alone should be reason for
you to try and make peace with his presence. He’s here to stay, and
you know he’s a good man. Think about it—when was the last time you
saw Grandma this happy?”

Her mother took a couple of deep breaths, her
nostrils flaring as she tried to get wild emotions under control.
“I miss my dad,” she said, sounding more like a little girl than a
grown woman.

“I know,” Lacy said, urging her mother into
her embrace. Not that she had to do a lot of urging. Her mother
collapsed against her and wept, long and loud. “Let’s set the
table,” Lacy suggested after her mother cried herself out.

Frannie nodded, sniffling.

Lacy, feeling like she had just taken the
first step toward parenting her parent, was glad for the
distraction of setting the table. They worked in silence, and when
her grandparents emerged from the kitchen, they found their subdued
daughter working in studied silence. They sent a questioning look
to Lacy who gave them a helpless shrug in return.

Gladys and Sean arrived as soon as the table
was set. Sean was wearing a suit and red bow tie, one which he
explained he had received in show choir, and Lacy smiled, adjusting
his tie with a pat.

“I think you look very handsome. In fact,
you’ve inspired me to dress up, too.” She departed to change
clothes and freshen up, adding some makeup to the bare bones
routine she had performed on her face earlier that morning. There
was a green velvet dress she occasionally pulled out at Christmas.
She didn’t often wear it because with her red hair she sometimes
felt like a Christmas tree. But what better time to look like a
tree than Christmas?

Knowing they had a few minutes until supper,
she also took her hair out of its perfunctory bun, brushed it, and
used her large iron to give it some loose curls before misting it
with hairspray. After giving herself an approving nod in the
mirror, she left her bathroom, just in time to answer the door and
greet Tosh.

He whistled in appreciation. “You look fancy,
though I’m a little disappointed not to see that slinky red number
again.”

“There are children present,” she reminded
him, jerking her head in the direction of Sean.

“Right, children,” Tosh said. He glanced at
Sean and smiled. “That kid looks almost exactly like me when I was
his age. Is that bowtie from show choir?”

Lacy nodded and she and Tosh shared a laugh.
“He’s like our lovechild, if we had one, which we could if you
wanted. Just letting you know I’m open to the possibility. Also, I
brought eggnog.” He held a milky-white jug aloft. Noting Lacy’s
grimace, he hastened to add, “I didn’t make it. One of my
parishioners made it for me, and I’ll never drink it.”

“Does anyone actually drink eggnog?” Lacy
said, sticking out her tongue. “I can’t think of anything worse
than raw eggs and nutmeg.”

Tosh shrugged. “It’s a senior citizen thing.
Every party I’ve gone to this season has served it, and they always
run out. The sweet lady who bestowed this gallon on me made it seem
like a great honor. But I’m with you. Gross.” He bent and kissed
her cheek, breezing by her to take the eggnog to the kitchen.

She trotted after him, realizing she would
need to make the introductions to her parents. They encountered her
father first.

“Dad, this is Tosh. Tosh, my father, Clint
Steele.”

“Mr. Steele,” Tosh said, offering his hand
for a shake. “Lacy tells me you’re a golfer. We have a family
friend who is a member at Pine Valley. We’ll have to arrange a day
to play.”

Lacy wasn’t a fan of golf, but even she had
heard of Pine Valley, the ultra-exclusive dream club in New Jersey.
Predictably, her father’s eyes were glazed over with ecstasy at the
mention of the place.

“Dad, are you in there? Do you need a drool
cloth?”

“I’m buying you breakfast,” her father
replied absently, and Lacy smiled. Tosh had apparently passed
muster.

“I’ll explain later,” Lacy told a clueless
Tosh, leading him past her still starry-eyed father to the kitchen
and her mother. “Mom, this is Tosh,” Lacy said, presenting Tosh
with a flourish of her hand.

Her mother turned with a speculative smile,
sizing up Tosh from head to toe. “Mrs. Steele,” Tosh exclaimed upon
first sight of Lacy’s mother. “You look exactly like…” He broke off
and Lacy knew he had been about to say “your mother,” referring to
Barbara Blake. “Your daughter,” Tosh hastily added. “The
resemblance is amazing.” He looked back and forth between Lacy and
Frannie with a smile.

Lacy’s mother beamed. “Why, thank you, dear.
Isn’t it amazing that we got two redheads in a row when we’re the
only ones in our family for generations?”

“Amazing,” Tosh said. Now that he had
regained his footing after his earlier stumble, he was unflappable.
They would have continued to make small talk, but Lacy’s
grandmother interrupted with an exclamation of delight.

“Oh, eggnog, Pastor Underhill, you shouldn’t
have. That’s my favorite!”

“My pleasure, Mrs. Craig,” Tosh said, his
earnest tone conveying his sincerity. “If there’s any left over,
please keep it.”

“Are you sure?” Lucinda asked.

“Positive,” Tosh replied.

“Such a sweet boy,” Lucinda muttered, turning
to place the jug on the counter. She rooted in the cupboard and
poured a generous serving of the drink, offering it up to anyone in
the room. When everyone refused, she drank it herself.

Lacy squeezed Tosh’s bicep, smiling up at
him. He definitely had her family’s approval and, if his smug grin
was any indication, he knew it. “Come and meet Sean,” she
suggested, tugging his sleeve to lead him back to the family
room.

Sean sat in a chair, sullenly listening as
Gladys and Mr. Middleton discussed friends who had died that year.
His cheerful bowtie was a direct contrast to his glum countenance,
but he cheered considerably when Lacy and Tosh entered the
room.

“Sean, this is my friend, Tosh.”

“I’ve noticed you from the platform,” Tosh
said. “I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to say hello before now.
This is my busy season. Lacy tells me you like video games.”

Sean relaxed and leaned forward as the
conversation moved to familiar territory. There was another knock
on the door, and Lacy’s heart began to flutter in nervous
anticipation. What would be Jason’s reaction to his gift? By now he
had to have seen it. In his down time, he often drove by his house
or hers to check on things.

Tentatively, she pulled open the door and saw
him towering in the entryway, his black uniform making him look
larger and more menacing. His features were carefully schooled into
a placid expression, so she had no idea what he was thinking.

“Are you here to arrest me, officer?” She
crossed her wrists, holding them submissively in front of her.

He clasped her wrists, circling them with his
fingers as he stepped inside and closed the door with his foot.
“What’s your crime, Miss Steele?” He quirked an eyebrow, waiting
for her to incriminate herself.

“I plead the fifth,” Lacy replied.

He smiled. “You look festive, Red.” His eyes
swept up and down the length of her, causing her to flush until she
was uncomfortably warm. “Merry Christmas,” he added softly.

“Merry Christmas,” she returned. For a few
seconds it was as if they were the only people in the room, or on
the planet, for that matter. But reality came rushing back, and
Lacy remembered that not only were there other people present, but
one of those people was intensely interested in their little
interaction.

Sure enough, when Jason dropped her wrists,
Lacy turned to see Tosh staring at her, paying half-hearted
attention to Sean who was animatedly describing the war game he had
played with Lacy.