Christmas Steele (2 page)

Lacy slipped on an apron, turning her back so
her grandfather could tie it for her, and then they set to work.
Baking with her grandmother was a yearly tradition Lacy treasured,
and she was happy with the addition of her grandfather this year.
After so many years as a bachelor, he knew his way around the
kitchen pretty well, and the three of them enjoyed spending time
together—a win-win situation all around.

They were elbow deep in cookie dough when
Lacy’s phone rang, a ringtone she recognized. After a quick swipe
of her hands on a dishrag, she picked it up and pushed the
button.

“Dost mine ears deceive me, or is this my
long lost friend, Tosh?”

Tosh sighed. “Don’t start, Lacy. Are you free
tonight? I need to be with someone who doesn’t smell like Soft Musk
and arthritis cream.”

“I’m free,” Lacy said, too eager to get out
to try and come back with a witty reply.

“Wear something fancy,” Tosh commanded.

“Got it,” she said.

“And make out with me when I take you home,”
he added hastily.

“What?” she asked.

“You were being so agreeable; I thought it
was worth a try. I’ll pick you up at six.”

They disconnected and Lacy returned to
baking, happy that her plans for the evening would include
something more than rifling through the freezer in search of some
ice cream she may have overlooked on previous raids.

With three of them working, baking only took
a few hours. Lacy washed up and spent a long time arranging her
hair and applying her makeup, realizing as she did so how much she
had missed the process. Since it had been so long since she dressed
up, and since Tosh had told her to dress fancy, she raided the back
of her closet, pulling out her little red dress.

As a rule, strawberry blonds weren’t supposed
to wear red, unless it was that perfect and elusive shade of red,
the one that complimented hair and skin instead of making one look
like a clown. Lacy had found just such a dress in a Manhattan
boutique and had snatched it up, despite the fact that it took her
two months to pay for it. The dress was worth it, though it was
different than her usual preference. Not that it was revealing, but
it was definitely less conservative than her other dresses. As
such, she waited to put it on until her grandparents were out of
the house.

Six o’clock came and went with no sign of
Tosh. He called a few minutes after six to let Lacy know he was
running late. After apologizing, he asked her to be ready to go as
soon as he arrived. She hated to cover her seldom-worn dress before
Tosh had the chance to see it, but it would make for a more
dramatic reveal when they arrived wherever they were going.

His knock was abrupt, but when Lacy opened
the door, he rushed inside and swept her up into a tight hug. “If I
have to eat one more gingerbread man, I promise I’m going to lose
it,” he said by way of a greeting.

Lacy laughed and surreptitiously set aside
the plate of gingerbread cookies she had baked for him that
afternoon.

He kissed her cheek. “Ready?”

“Ready,” she said, following him to his car
when he grasped her hand. After he politely held the door for her,
she began to feel a rush of excitement about their possible
destination. Before the holiday, she had dropped some not-so-subtle
hints about wanting to go to
The
Nutcracker
. When
they pulled into the local union hall, however, she tried to tamp
down her disappointment. The ballet definitely wasn’t being held
here. Still, Lacy didn’t begin to be alarmed until they stepped
into the hall and Tosh took his coat off.

“You’re wearing your clerical collar,” she
observed. “Why are you wearing your clerical collar?”

“Because I’m a minister?” he tried.

“No, I mean why are you wearing your clerical
collar here?”

“They asked me to give the invocation,” he
said.

“They who? Invocation for what? What is
this?”

“The Fraternal Order of Police Christmas
banquet,” he said, turning away from her to scan the crowd.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lacy said, closing her eyes
in the hopes that when she opened them she might realize she was
dreaming.

“What’s the problem?” he asked. “Afraid
you’ll run into Jason?”

His resentful tone wasn’t lost on her, but
she ignored him. She hadn’t considered Jason, though he was
definitely another factor in her desire to flee. “The problem is
you said to dress fancy, and we obviously have different
definitions of that word.”

“Why? What are you wearing?” He turned to
survey her with a combination of amusement and curiosity.

“This coat for the rest of the night,” she
said, tugging her coat tighter around her middle.

“Oh, no, you have to let me see.” Tosh
reached for her, tugging on her coat.

“Tosh, stop it,” she said, trying to dodge
his long and insistent arms.

“Just one peek,” Tosh said. Somehow in the
struggle she ended up bent over, Tosh behind her with both his arms
wrapped around her.

“Hello, Red.”

I hate my life,
Lacy thought before
she reluctantly turned to look at the newcomer. “Hello, Jason,” she
replied. “How are you?”

“Good. You getting the Heimlich or
something?” His gaze shifted from her to Tosh, narrowing. Tosh
returned his narrowed gaze but wisely remained silent for once.

“Jason, I think they’re getting ready to
start. Are you coming?” the pretty blond came up beside him and
rested her hand on his forearm.

White hot jealousy sliced through Lacy’s
midsection. With maximum effort, she kept her expression perfectly
neutral, even when Jason scanned her face, checking for she knew
not what.

“Are you going to take your coat off and stay
a while?” Jason asked. “It’s warm in here.”

“Yes, I think I will,” she announced,
throwing off her coat with a slight flourish as Tosh reached for
it, catching it before it could fall to the ground.

There was a slight pause as the assembled
group took in her dress and Lacy tried not to feel self-conscious.
Maybe she was overdressed, but she looked
good
.

“Oh, wow,” Tosh said, breaking the awkward
silence. Jason didn’t say anything, but his lips pressed together
in a thin line and he cleared his throat.

“Jason,” his date tried again. “Our
seats.”

Jason gave her a nod. “See you, Lacy,” he
said. Spinning, he followed his date to their seats.

“Where are our seats?” Lacy asked.

“On the stage,” Tosh said.

Lacy groaned. “I’m so glad that on the one
night I look like I could jump from a giant birthday cake, I’m in a
room filled with testosterone-oozing police officers, and sitting
on stage, no less. What was I thinking?”

Tosh rested his arm on her shoulders,
ushering her toward the stage. “You were thinking that you look
gorgeous and you’re classy enough to look elegant in anything.” He
gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You look beautiful, Lacy. Stop
worrying.” He paused. “Although maybe you should drape your coat
over your legs when we’re on stage. I wouldn’t want you to
accidentally flash anyone.”

Lacy groaned again and they took their seats.
Tosh stood to give the opening remarks, as well as the prayer, but
Lacy felt like everyone was looking at her instead. She wasn’t sure
it was her imagination when Travis caught her eye and mouthed, “You
look hot,” before fanning his face with his hand. It was a relief
when the meal was served and people began to focus on their
food.

As she nervously picked at her food, Lacy
allowed her eyes to wander, knowing they would eventually settle on
Jason and his date. Jason was looking at her or, more specifically,
her knee where Tosh’s hand rested. His gaze roamed to her face and
their eyes locked before his date leaned over and whispered
something in his ear, snagging his attention.

Who was she? She knew Jason dated, but she
had never before come face to face with any of his “friends.” Was
this girl something more? Was she the reason Jason hadn’t called in
a couple of weeks? The thought brought more pain than Lacy was
willing to admit.

Tosh gave her knee a squeeze. “How’s the
chicken?”

“Tastes like chicken,” she said, holding out
a bite on her fork for him to taste. “How’s the beef?”

“Tastes like chicken,” he replied,
reciprocating a bite for her.

She grimaced. The beef did taste like chicken
somehow. “Why didn’t you tell me where we were going tonight?” she
asked.

“Lacy, I’ve been swamped. I barely know where
I am. I check my phone and show up where it tells me each day.”

“Tosh,” she pressed.

He sighed. “Fine. I was afraid if I told you,
you wouldn’t want to come with me, and I needed a date.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to come with you?”

“Because
he
was going to be here, and
you get weird whenever his name is mentioned.”

“Weird how?” she asked uncomfortably.

“Weird like you won’t take off your coat for
me, but you’ll take it off for him.”

How could she explain to Tosh her mixed up
reactions to him and Jason when she didn’t understand them herself?
“Sometimes I feel like I’m competing with him,” she said at last.
“I don’t feel that way with you, like I have to one-up you all the
time. Our relationship is comfortable.”

“Like an old pair of slippers,” Tosh said
disparagingly.

“Like a good friendship,” Lacy countered.

“That’s almost as bad,” he said.

“He and I are friends too,” she said.

“For now,” he added.

“Tosh, I’m not…”

“I know,” he interrupted. “You’re not ready;
you’re not over Robert.”

“I’m over Robert,” she said tightly. “I’m not
over what he did to me.”

Tosh took a deep breath and held it.
“Christmas is the time for forgiveness and rebirth, Lacy.”

“I thought you promised not to pressure me
about it, Tosh,” Lacy said.

“No pressure, just a reminder.”

“My mother is coming. Trust me when I tell
you that I’ll have all the reminders I need.”

“Am I going to get to meet your parents?” he
asked.

“Of course you will,” she assured him.

That thought cheered him until a new thought
occurred. “Are you going to introduce
him
?” They both looked
at Jason who turned his gaze sharply from Lacy.

“They already know him. We grew up together,
remember?”

“That’s not what I meant. Are you going to
introduce him?”

“He and I haven’t talked in a couple of
weeks,” Lacy said. “I suppose if we ran into him, I would do the
polite thing and introduce my parents. But it’s not something I’m
planning on. Remember not to mention anything to my mom,” she
said.

“You mean about how she’s adopted, Mr.
Middleton is her real father, her real mother was murdered, and
you’re a millionaire now? That stuff?”

“Yes, Tosh, that stuff.”

“I’m a pastor. My lips are sealed. Unless
you’d prefer otherwise.” He made kissy lips at her.

She rolled her eyes and shoved at his
bicep.

“Someday, Lacy, you’re going to regret
rejecting me so often,” Tosh said.

“But not today,” Lacy said, laughing at his
outraged expression. He would have retaliated, but a comedian took
the stage then and began his routine.

Chapter 3

The next morning, Lacy forced herself to rise
early, just as she had forced herself to avoid the television and
popcorn the night before.

There was more baking to be done with her
grandparents and her parents were due to arrive later, but that
wasn’t why Lacy rolled out of bed. She was committed to pulling
herself out of her funk. For her that meant keeping on schedule.
Over the last few months since she quit her job in Manhattan, she
had become too used to keeping odd hours. She had read somewhere
that circadian rhythms could affect mood, and she was beginning to
believe it was true because she felt a little blue.

She actually felt worse than she had
yesterday before Tosh called, before he took her to the police
banquet, before she saw Jason and his stupid date. But that
couldn’t be the cause of her distress. No, her ill humor was
because of too many late nights; it had to be. She and Jason were
friends, and that was all.

Baking with her grandparents worked to pull
her out of her bad mood. They always had fun together, and she was
glad she was over the age where she had to pretend to prefer to be
somewhere else. She had always loved her grandma, always enjoyed
spending time with her, but it hadn’t exactly been the popular
thing to own up to when she was in high school. Now it didn’t
matter if it was cool or not and, better still, Lacy didn’t care.
Adulthood came with a lot of responsibility, but also a lot of
freedom.

They were laughing hard over something her
grandmother said, deep laughter--the kind where they were bent over
at the waist and leaning on the counter--when her parents let
themselves in.

“Well, this is a scene,” her mother said and
it was as if she sucked all the fun from the atmosphere, leaving an
awkwardness vacuum in its wake.

“Frannie,” Lucinda said, bustling forward to
give her daughter a hug. Lacy moved protectively closer to her
grandfather before remembering she was also supposed to hug her
mother and father. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Mr. Middleton
and went forward to give her mother a hug. Her father set down his
bags and opened his arms, and she released her mother to hug her
father.

“Hi, little girl,” he whispered.

“Hi, Dad,” she replied, giving him an extra
tight squeeze. On the rare occasions when her grandmother hadn’t
been able to provide solace, Lacy had turned to her father, finding
him a ready and willing comfort for her troubles.

“Mr. Middleton,” Fran said coolly, looking
her former principal up and down and probably trying to figure out
why he was wearing an apron.