A Holiday Seduction: A Holiday Novella

by Tiffany Patterson

  “Fine. Do it again. Close your eyes to the fact that you’re with a man who lies about who he is and is still drinking.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say over my shoulder, giving my mother the evil eye.

  “I know that you’ll come knocking on my door when you find out the truth. I just hope for your sake it isn’t too late.” She gives me one final look before pushing ahead of me, then charging down the stairs, presumably to her own parked vehicle.

  I remain standing there for a full minute, hating the depth of the impact her words have had on me. My immediate reaction is to declare her insane for even suggesting that Neil would lie to me, and the world, about who he is. Yet, memories of my past with my sister come rushing back.

  Deirdre, as much as I loved her, she was a master manipulator. She knew exactly what buttons of mine to press and how to make me feel guilty for her and take her in. My mother is right. Deirdre had stolen from me. She sold my television to someone for drug money, she took petty cash out of the tin she knew I kept in my closet, and even a pair of pearl earrings my mother gave me when I turned thirteen. Yet, after all of that, I still thought I could save Deirdre.

  As I trudge down the stairs and get into my car, I can’t stop the question that pushes through my mind.

  Am I making the same mistake with Neil?

  Neil: Finish them at my place.

  I peer down at Neil’s text to me after I texted him, frustrated that my oven is yet again acting up. He texted me just after I arrived back home from picking up all the necessary ingredients. And though my mind is still full of questions and doubts that I desperately try to forget, I’m glad to hear from him.

  Me: Are you sure?

  It doesn’t take him a full minute to respond with:

  Neil: Never been more sure of anything in my life. You know the code. I’m going into a meeting. Text me if you need anything.

  Sighing, I remove the paper with the passcode to Neil’s building from my refrigerator door, although I have it memorized. Knowing that I have a huge order and a limited amount of time to get it done, I don’t dwell on my doubts or anything else. I load up the ingredients into some shopping bags I keep in my kitchen and then place them in the pulley cart from my hall closet, and make my way down to my car.

  “This would be so much easier if I had my own bakery,” I murmur to myself, thinking about the conversation I had with the owner of the building Neil recommended. I resolve to follow up with the guy the following week, after Christmas but before New Year’s.

  It takes a while for me to get set up in Neil’s kitchen with all of my supplies, but once I do, I easily fall into a rhythm. Xavier Grant has ordered three different types of cookies, one hundred of them each.

  The red velvet cookies will take the longest to finish, considering the cheesecake mixing inside, so I prepare the dough for those first. Next, I get started on the gingerbread cookies, ensuring each cookie cutter shape comes out perfect. And I leave my classic chocolate chip cookies for last, deciding I’m going to add a little something special to them for Mr. Grant’s generosity in doubling the payment amount.

  At some point that afternoon, I come up for air to make the call to my delivery service, ensuring that they’ll be ready to pick up my order by tomorrow afternoon. I want to be entirely sure that the cookies will make it to Houston and into Xavier Grant’s hands by Christmas Eve.

  Once those tasks are complete, I decide to take a breather and to fix myself something to eat. My growling stomach isn’t going to allow me to ignore its needs much longer.

  As I begin peeling a banana from Neil’s fruit bowl, my phone rings.

  “Look who the wind blew in. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Jackie sighs in response to my greeting. “I’m sorry for being MIA. Between work, Mama, and … other stuff, I got a little tied up in the holiday season.”

  “Hmm. Well, it’s the other stuff that had you tied up that interests me.”

  There’s a pause on the other end of the phone.

  “Hello?” I stand up from looking in the fridge. “I know you hear me. Don’t try to ignore me.”

  Jackie sighs. “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got time,” I say even though I didn’t.

  “No, you don’t. I got your text about that big order you have to get out by tomorrow. And I’m in between meetings right now. I just needed to check-in and to hear your voice.”

  I push out a breath, sighing. “It’s good to hear your voice, too. Things have been such a whirlwind here. I miss you.”

  “Miss you, too. How’s Neil?”

  “He’s … great,” I answer while holding a can of tuna from his cabinet to the electric can opener. “I’ve got a question.”

  “About what?”

  “Neil.”

  “Yeah, wait, hang on.”

  I wait, hearing a muffled sound push through the phone.

  “He said what?” she says.

  There’s a male voice that responds, but I can’t quite make it out. Meanwhile, I finish making my tuna fish sandwich, taking a bite without even bothering to plate it properly.

  “Sorry about that, Desi. What were you asking?”

  I quickly chew, then swallow the bite I took before saying, “Neil, do you think he …” I trail off, not even wanting to say out loud the thoughts that run through my head.

  “Ugh, okay, okay. Hey, Desi, I’m so sorry, but I have to cut this call short. Putting out all types of fires over here.”

  “Okay.” I do my best not to pout. I realize Jackie is extremely busy in her new job, but she didn’t even get a chance to tell me about the guy that’s been taking up her time. And I know it’s a guy because of the tone of her voice when she said other stuff.

  I finish my tuna sandwich and resolve to get in contact with Jackie soon to make her tell me what’s going on. Besides, I do want to ask her about Neil. I hope that she will be the one to help me put all of my doubts to the side. After all, she worked with Neil. She would know more than anyone if there was something shady happening in the rehab.

  After the short conversation, I toss the trash from my impromptu lunch into the garbage and get back to work on the cookies. Things are going so well that I think maybe I’ll have enough time to finish the cookies and then stop by a gift store where I saw some fabulous boxes and wrapping paper that would be perfect for wrapping them in. Typically, I have special boxes or packaging that I use, but I don’t have enough for this order.

  As I remove the last batch of the red velvet cookies from the oven, a sense of pride and accomplishment comes over me. I still have to complete the chocolate chip cookies, but I prepared the dough for those already.

  I give the red velvet cookies time to settle on the cooling rack and then move to the counter to pick up my phone and call the store I was thinking of earlier. After being assured that they would set aside enough boxes and gift wrap for my order, I hang up and start to search for a pen to write a note for Neil. It’s almost four-thirty, and he should be home within the next hour or so. Since I’ll be out picking up the boxes, I want to leave him a plate of freshly baked cookies to have once he comes in.

  I search through the drawers but can’t find anything to write out the note. I peer through the overhead cabinets and don’t see anything. Lastly, I head over to the entertainment center, opening one of the bottom drawers, searching for a pen or marker, and I almost tumble over at the bottle I see pushed to the back.

  In a state of disbelief, I bend lower, reaching all the way in, and remove a bottle of Smirnoff vodka. What’s even more surprising is that the bottle is half-filled, meaning someone opened and drank it.

  Hoping against hope, I twist the cap to open it and sniff inside. My shoulders slump and my eyelids close as the smell of alcohol hits my nose. I desperately wanted the bottle to be full of water or something … anything besides vodka.

  A memory of finding Deirdre’s hidden stash of drugs inside a decorati
ve bowl on my coffee table comes rushing back. The feeling of betrayal soon follows as I stand there, holding the Smirnoff bottle in my hand.

  My mother’s words of warning, the shouts from the man the other night at the holiday party, and my doubts come back to me. In that moment, I realize I’ve gone and done it again. I’ve let another person I love to deceive me.

  Trembling with emotion, I turn back to the kitchen. As quickly as I can, I manage to pack up all of the cookies I’ve baked, the remaining ingredients, and the cooking supplies I’ve brought over. Reminding myself that this time, I am not going to be the fool to another liar, I neatly lay Neil’s key on the kitchen counter and head for the door.

  Chapter 16

  Two days later, I find myself sitting outside of my parents’ home, willing myself to climb out of my car and go inside. My chest feels so heavy. I don’t even know how I’m still managing to breathe. Yet, I am, as evidenced by the fact that I feel the pain with every inhale and exhale.

  It’s been two days since I’ve left Neil’s place. I refuse to speak to him even though he’s called and texted repeatedly. I sent him one text after I left, letting him know I knew about his secret, and that was it. He continues to call. While I understand the smart thing to do would be to block his number, I can’t bring myself to do it.

  So, I’m here. At my parents’ on Christmas Eve, trying to get myself together before I go inside and eat crow. After all of this, I get to tell my mother she was right about Neil.

  Tears well up in my eyes, and I try to blink them away, but it’s pointless. They stream down my face, and I have to search through my glove compartment for some tissue.

  Dabbing at my eyes, I peer up into the rearview mirror, trying hard not to mess up my makeup. I send up a little prayer that my family won’t be able to tell I’ve been crying for the past two days, but I know that also is pointless. Anyone with eyes will be able to see that I’m a wreck. But when my father called me and all but begged me to make it to the family Christmas Eve dinner, I didn’t have the heart to turn him down.

  “Ouch!” I yelp when I mindlessly reach over for my bag and jam my fingers against the Smirnoff bottle. Don’t ask me why I’ve carried the bottle in my bag since I left Neil’s place. Nothing I’m doing makes any sense to me. I’m just grateful I was able to hold myself together long enough to complete Xavier Grant’s order. As soon as the delivery people picked up the order, I let myself fall apart.

  Sighing, I get out of the car and hike my bag up over my shoulder before heading for the door.

  “There’s my baby girl,” my daddy says as he pulls the door open. He spreads his arms wide, and I fall into his embrace, comforted by his strong hold. I nuzzle my face against the harsh material of his sweater, uncaring that it’ll mess up my makeup.

  My father pulls away with his hands gripping my shoulders as he stares down at me. “Desi, have you been crying?”

  I shake my head but only halfway. What’s the point of lying? But I know admitting the truth to his question will only lead to me having to tell the entire story.

  “Is Mom here?” I question.

  With pinched eyebrows, he nods. “Yes, of course. She’s down in our bedroom, still getting ready before the rest of the family arrives.”

  Stepping inside, I make a beeline for my parents’ bedroom, not bothering to explain my actions to my father. I ignore the low strumming piano sounds that play the most popular Christmas songs, the beautifully decorated tree, and even the delicious smell of the baked ham, collard greens, and other sides I know my mother prepared.

  “Mom,” I say as I knock and enter the bedroom at the same time.

  “Desiree,” she says, shocked as she spins away from dressing in the mirror. “What’s wrong?”

  I move to the bed, collapsing on it, and finally let the tears I’ve been holding release. “You were right,” I say. My vision is blurry, but I feel the bed dip as my mother comes to sit on it.

  “Look at me,” she says, pulling my chin to look her in the eye. “This is about Neil, isn’t it?”

  I nod, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking.

  “What happened?”

  Through tears and a stutter, I manage to tell my mother what I found in Neil’s condo.

  “You found it underneath the entertainment center?”

  “Yes, h-hidden away in the back. Like he knew to hide it just in case I went through his belongings.”

  My mother pinches her lips, thinking. I know she’s going to say something like, ‘I told you so’, or, ‘what did you expect?’

  However, I’m in for a rude awakening when she parts her lips and says, “Desi, maybe you don’t know the full story.”

  I whip my head backward and sit up completely, mouth agape, staring at my mother.

  “Did you not hear what I said to you? Neil, a supposed ex-alcoholic, had a bottle of vodka hidden in his home. What more to the story do I need to hear? And why are you of all people saying this to me?”

  She stands from the bed and begins pacing back and forth with her arms folded. Not for the first time, I recognize how pretty my mother is. She and I are the same height, and she’s worked hard to keep her figure slim over the years, making fitness classes a regular part of her weekly routine. The holidays are the only days of the year in which she splurges from her usual healthy diet of steamed vegetables and baked fish or chicken.

  My mother is in her mid-fifties, but you’d rarely know it. Except when she expresses worry or fear, does her age manage to show through—moments like this very one.

  “Mom, what is it?”

  She sighs. “I think I was all wrong about this,” she answers, looking at me with sorrowful eyes. “I was so afraid you’d end up like your sister.”

  “What does Deidre have to do with this?”

  “Everything, Desi. She has everything to do with how I reacted to your relationship with Neil.” She moves closer, taking my hands in hers, as I sit on the edge of the bed. “Desi, you were right when you said that I avoided talking about Deirdre to avoid the pain of losing her. And you were right about how much I criticized both of you girls coming up. Maybe that’s why she ended up the way she did.”

  I shake my head, standing and pulling my mom into a hug. “No, Mom. I was so wrong about that. I can’t believe I said such a horrible thing to you. It’s not true.”

  “Shhh,” she shushes me. “There’s some truth in everything said in anger. I know that better than anyone. One of the final things I ever told your sister was that I never wanted to see her again. At that moment, I meant it, but that was my pain talking.”

  My mother stops talking when the doorbell rings. Figuring it’s just one of my extended family members, I fully expect my mother to ignore it, but she doesn’t.

  She quickly wipes her eyes and takes me by the hand. “Come on, baby. Our guests are arriving. We’ll finish this conversation later.”

  I want to protest, but she’s adamant, pulling me by the arm. I barely have time to grab my bag, which I tossed onto the bed.

  Following my mother, I plan to greet whoever’s at the door before disappearing into the kitchen. I’m not in the mood to make small talk with any of my family members tonight.

  But to my surprise, when my mother pulls the door open, I don’t find one of my aunts or cousins standing there. My gaze immediately locks with Neil’s golden brown orbs.

  “Neil,” my mother greets.

  “What are you doing here?” I say at the same time.

  His gaze drops to my mother before looking back up at me. “Your mother invited me.”

  I inhale sharply as I look over at my mother, who’s staring at me from the doorway.

  “I think you two need to talk,” she says before taking a step back. She turns to Neil. “Thank you for coming.” She’s wearing a genuine smile on her face as if she’s happy to see him, even after what I told her.

  I watch as she walks away, disappearing into the kitchen as I planned to do only mi
nutes before.

  “Can we talk out here?”

  Frowning, I fold my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what’s going on, but—”

  “Please?” he pleads, causing my protestations to wither away on my tongue.

  Sighing, I step outside, closing the front door behind me.

  “You left without a word,” he says after a minute of silence.

  “You know why.”

  Shaking his head, he responds, “All I got was some cryptic text message about finding something in my apartment.”

  “So, you go to my mother to get to me?”

  “No, she came to me.”

  My back straightens, and I blink, my mind trying to process this new information. “What? When?”

  “Two days ago. The same day you walked out on me.”

  I flinch at the accusation in his tone. I try to remind myself that walking away was the best thing for me, given what I found, but that doesn’t stop the guilt from weighing down that pivotal organ in the center of my chest.

  “She came to McKenna to speak with me.”

  My frown deepens, and I glance over my shoulder, remembering the conversation I had with my mother moments ago. “To talk about me?”

  “To talk about me. She wanted to know if I am who I say I am.”

  “What’d you tell her?”

  “My truth.” He spreads his arms out wide. “I’m a fall down, blackout, lying drunk. But I’m recovered today. And in the last ten years, I haven’t needed to drink or behave the way I used to.”

  “Is that right? Then why did I find this hidden in your condo?” Snatching the half-filled bottle of vodka out of my bag, I thrust it in his face.

  Neil frowns, confused at first, before his face relaxes as if he’s realized something. He continues to stare at the bottle. I can’t recite the emotions I see passing through his gaze, but there’s something powerful that shifts when he moves his eyes up to meet mine.

  “I want to show you something.”

  “Show me what?”

  “I can show better than I can tell. Will you come with me?” he asks, holding his hand out for me to take.