My Life as a Holiday Album (My Life as an Album #5)

by L. J. Evans

  Mama was crying now, tears rolling down her cheeks, and she pulled me into her. Daddy wrapped his arms around both of us and said into my hair, “Okay, baby girl. Okay.”

  We stood there, arms wrapped around each other, until Brett cleared his throat behind us. I let go of my parents and went to him. He hugged me to his chest, and I held on tight to him―joining us. Daddy rose from his seat and stuck his hand out to Brett. They shook, eyes locked, as if they could see into each other’s souls, and maybe they could. Love defending love.

  “I’m counting on you to take care of our baby. To shelter her from the storms. To bring her joy.”

  Brett nodded. “I promised to love and cherish her through it all, and I mean to do just that.”

  Daddy nodded and let go of Brett’s hand.

  “And if you have those papers drawn up,” Brett added. “I’d like to sign them. I don’t want anyone to question why we did this. Why I did this. It’s because I can’t live my life without her, and I don’t give a damn about anything else.”

  “Fair enough,” Daddy said. Then he looked at me. “You’ve hurt your mother. You excluded her from your special day in a way that’s hard for me to get past.”

  I gulped, more tears appearing in my eyes.

  “Don’t do it again. She deserves to be a part of your moments. All of them.”

  I knew he was right. I knew I’d let my past overcome me. I’d let my fears grow into a monster I’d been unable to vanquish. I should have invited my family to my wedding. I should have asked them to stand by me like they always had, even when I’d been wrong. Even when I’d been dragged to the police station for the graffiti on the high school wall. They’d never abandoned me before.

  “I promise,” I told him, meaning it. I was going to let go of the past and keep everyone I loved close together. Brett’s family. My family. All of us together.

  Brett

  I’VE GOT MY LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM

  “What do I care how much it may storm?

  Oh, I've got my love to keep me warm.”

  Performed by Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

  Written by Irving Berlin

  Eliza’s dad was right and wrong to chastise her for excluding them from our wedding. Her fears had gotten to her. My selfishness had gotten to me. I hadn’t pushed her when I should have, but I also wasn’t going to let him make her feel bad about our decision. Not on my watch.

  “While you may not agree with our decisions―and we’re mighty sorry they hurt you and her mama―they were still Eliza’s choices to make,” I told him.

  Derek looked at me again, eyes narrowing.

  “She may be your wife at the moment, but she’ll always be my daughter.”

  “Yes, sir. But I won’t stand for anyone making her feel bad, not even you.”

  To my surprise, her dad burst into laughter. A low chuckle that rolled through the room. “Good for you. And stop with the ‘sir’ stuff. It’s Derek.”

  I nodded.

  Eliza’s mama came up to us, putting her hands on her baby’s face. “I love you, Eliza. Always and forever. I’m sad I wasn’t there to help you celebrate your marriage. I’m sad we’ve had so little time to get to know the man at your side, and I’m sad you’re leaving. But I’m happy you found someone who fills your heart so much that you’d be willing to give everything up for him.”

  Eliza nodded.

  “’Kay,” Mia said, brushing at ‘Z’s face. “Well, we’ll have to make some calls in the morning. Maybe we can throw together a small celebration before you leave.”

  Eliza hesitated, and instead of letting my brain journey down a path where she didn’t want to tell everyone about me, I remembered the entire reason she’d planned on coming home to begin with. We were supposed to be celebrating her daddy and a bunch of other relatives who were turning fifty. Eliza wouldn’t want to overshadow that party with one of her own.

  “Maybe I can talk to Edie. She was trying to get some folks together on New Year’s Eve,” Eliza said.

  Her mama nodded. “Oh yes, that’s right. Maybe we can tag on to her plans.”

  Eliza gave her a small smile. “I’ll talk to her in the morning.”

  We said goodnight, and they both hugged her a little longer and a little tighter than before. As if they were having to say goodbye to her already. Then, we made our way back to Eliza’s room.

  The bed was small for the two of us, but perfect to make sure she was tucked up against me. I’d always felt protective of her, but after everything we’d said and been through tonight, I felt even more so.

  “I really am sorry,” she said quietly.

  “I know,” I said, because I did. I could feel the sorrow pouring from her.

  “I didn’t listen when you said to invite them. I let my past get the best of me.”

  I cut her off with a kiss, slow, deliberate, caressing her curves as my tongue invaded her sweet mouth. She met my touch with caresses of her own, tugging at my clothes like she had before I’d lost my senses and left.

  I drew back, looking into her wildly gorgeous face, and said, “For better or worse. I wasn’t kidding when I said those words. I want all the good and all the bad. I want you. But are you sure?”

  I ran a finger along her jaw and over her bottom lip, and her mouth parted, her breath coming in little puffs that instantly aroused me when I needed to stay focused on our words, and not our bodies, for just a few more seconds. She held my finger to her lips, kissing it before moving down to kiss my palm, her red lips scorching my skin with heat.

  “There is nothing else I want. There’s just you.”

  I grabbed her hips and pulled her up tight against me. She returned her mouth to mine, tugging my lip in between her teeth. My body reacted, desire coursing through me. I slid my hand under her sweater, running my fingers from the edge of her leggings up to the curve of her breast, and then back down. She moaned, and it made me smile. I loved I could do that. Hear that. Have that. She was mine. Thank God, she was mine. It was like a prayer and a promise.

  “I think we should make sure there is no annulment possible,” she whispered.

  “I wasn’t going to mention it to your father, but I’m pretty sure it would already be impossible. We’ve been married for three days, and I’ve made you mine every single one of them.”

  “And I’ve let you,” she said, her hands running over the ridges of my stomach.

  “We’re wearing way too many clothes,” I told her with a smile. She responded by removing my shirt, and I responded by removing hers until there was nothing left between us but our contrasting skin that she claimed she could show as a unified whole, and I prayed she could do it.

  As our bodies twined together, she looked up into my face and said with such deep conviction that I knew I’d never be able to doubt it again, “I love you, Brett.”

  I didn’t even get a chance to respond before she was breathing that love into me. But it didn’t matter because our actions would speak louder. My actions. The love and cherish that I’d promised her the day we’d married. The love and cherish I’d promised her father. We were meant to be together. I knew it in my soul. We fit in a way that was unexpected and beautiful. We were love.

  Cover Images: © Deposit Photos | Kiuikson and iStock | Antonel

  Mayson Abbott and Grace Carmen

  Cam and Blake’s son, Mayson, was the first of the kids to actually be born by the Album Series crew, but right on his heels came Grace. PJ from My Life as a Rock Album told Seth about being pregnant in a love letter you may or may not have read because it was written well after the story was done. While Mayson and Grace grew up a country apart, they met as kids and then again as college students when Mayson flew the coop to attend the University of California, Los Angeles. This story tells about their friendship, romance, falling apart…and maybe…just maybe… their second chance.

  Still confused? Check out the “My Life as an Album Serie
s Who’s Who.”

  Mayson

  MISS YOU MOST (AT CHRISTMAS TIME)

  “I miss you most at Christmas time,

  And I can't get you,

  Get you off my mind.”

  Performed by Mariah Carey

  Written by Afanasieff / Carey

  The slamming of cupboards in the kitchen woke me. I rubbed my gritty eyes and tried to let my body ease back into slumber. I’d been up most of the night, long after everyone had left from the de-decorating-athon that took over our families’ homes on the twenty-sixth of December. I’d stayed up to help Mama clean up, but really, we were up because neither of us could sleep. I knew what my reason was, but I didn’t ask her about hers because I didn’t want her to probe into mine. I wasn’t ready to share.

  More cupboards slammed, followed by the hum of voices. It was the downside to having the bigger bedroom with its en suite bathroom: the kitchen was right underneath, and you ended up getting more noise than you wanted coming through the vents.

  I gave up any attempt at slumber, sliding into my sweats and the nearest T-shirt I could find before hitting the head and wandering downstairs to find coffee. I was surprised to find Aunt Mia in the kitchen with Mama because Aunt Mia and mornings were like the jackal and the lion. They just didn’t get along.

  Aunt Mia looked like she’d been crying, and I instantly hoped she hadn’t heard from Dylan before I had a chance to talk to Uncle Derek. Before we finished the album. Before I was able to explain.

  They stopped talking when I entered and watched me. I tried to ignore it as I put a pod in the coffeepot before turning back to them while I waited for it to brew. They were still staring as if I were the devil, and my fears rose.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Kids. You’re all an ungrateful bunch of louts,” Mama said.

  “Louts?”

  “Don’t even start,” Mama said.

  Aunt Mia sniffled. “Don’t make him feel bad, Cam. It isn’t his fault.”

  “I have a feeling he knew about Khiley being knocked up and didn’t tell me. He probably knew about Ty and Eliza as well. They all tell each other everything, even if they don’t tell us,” Mama said, the sarcasm unmistakable.

  “Hey,” I interjected. “I didn’t know about any of it. I did know Khi wasn’t feeling well, but I was dumb-male enough not to put two and two together.”

  I’d been too busy hiding my own secrets and waging a battle against silence with words that weren’t getting a response. I didn’t have time to really pay attention to anyone else’s issues. I was close to my sister and my cousins, but many of them were closer to each other than me. Maybe it was because I was a couple of years older. Maybe because I’d blown Tennessee as soon as I could to go to UCLA in California. I hadn’t wanted my life to be tied up in this small town.

  Grace’s image flew back into my head. It had been torturing me all night. One of the last images I had of her. Naked. In my bed. In the apartment I shared with her cousin. Her curly dark hair flung out on my pillows. Her ice-blue eyes filled with lust. Goddamn. I turned back to the coffeepot to hide the immediate reaction my body had to that image.

  I took my time, thinking of my mama and my aunt behind me, which helped put my body back into shape. When I thought I could finally look them in the eye, I turned around, and they were still staring. I tried not to blush.

  “Jesus. What the heck happened?” I asked. “You two act like someone died—wait…someone didn’t die, did they? You’re all old enough to hit the rocks now.”

  Mama swatted at me with a kitchen towel. “I am not old, you little snot-bugger.”

  I laughed.

  “Eliza eloped,” Aunt Mia said with another sniffle.

  That wiped the smile from my face. “What?”

  “Yep. Got married without us and is leaving with Brett to go to Texas.”

  I put my arm around Aunt Mia. “I’m sorry.”

  It was sort of a false sympathy, though, because I wanted to shout out my happiness for Eliza. She was escaping the town and the confines of the family’s varying businesses. There was so much pressure to be a part of one of them. The car dealership. The ranch. The band. The entertainment law offices. They were all incredibly successful businesses—each and every one of them. But they were someone else’s dream that had come true. I didn’t want any of them. I had a chance to make my dreams come true, and that was my intent―selfish as it may have been.

  “You don’t look sorry.” Mama frowned at me.

  I shrugged. Khi walked into the room. She looked green around the edges, and I couldn’t help a brotherly dig. “I’m sorry it happened this way, but good for Eliza. At least she got married before she got pregnant.”

  Khi froze, looking from me to Aunt Mia. “What? Eliza got married? That sneaky little shit.”

  Khi whipped out her phone from the pocket of her UTK sweatshirt and started texting with one hand. Then, she stopped and made a mad dash for the bathroom.

  “Well, all I can say is, if this family breaks out one more surprise on us over this holiday, I’m going to start chopping heads and putting them on stakes,” Mama said as she sat down next to Aunt Mia.

  I tried not to choke on the swallow of coffee I’d taken.

  Shit.

  Mama looked at me expectantly, as if she just knew I was hiding something. She probably did. Mama was good at reading us. Our late-night cleanup duty had probably added to her something-is-up radar.

  “Don’t forget, Grace and Cole are arriving today,” I said, trying to turn the tide away from me, and my heart lurched just saying her name.

  “That’s right. Why are they coming here again? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Gracie-Lou, but I just don’t know why she’d come to Tennessee,” Mama said.

  For me, I thought, wishing it were the truth.

  “At least she isn’t bringing her dad with her,” Mama added on, making a face.

  “I thought you and Seth made your peace a long time ago,” Aunt Mia said.

  “We did, but that man has an aura to him that causes everyone around him to be on edge. That’s the last thing we need right now.”

  Thoughts of Seth increased my stress, which was already making my neck stiff. I rubbed at it, willing the knot to go away. Grace’s dad was one scary, intense man. Closed down unless he was looking at Grace or her mom, and then you could see he thought they were every star and moon in the universe put together. I couldn’t blame him; I sort of agreed with that sentiment about Grace. But if he found out what had gone down between us, I’d be roadkill. I deserved to be roadkill. I was a shithead, monster, slug. I was the lowest of the low.

  It was why Grace refused to answer me.

  Maybe tagging along with Cole when she was still so angry meant she didn’t want her dad to know about what had happened either. That gave me the tiniest, most infinitesimal amount of hope that I could still fix this.

  “I’m going to go shower,” I said, avoiding their gaze.

  “This is what I’m talking about,” Mama said to Aunt Mia. “They all drop bombs like marriage, and pregnancy, and dropping out of school and act like it’s just normal, everyday conversation.”

  “Maybe you’re the ones making it into mountains when they really are only molehills,” I said before I could stop myself. I wanted to smack myself in the head. When would I learn to keep my trap shut?

  “Have you ever seen a mole make their mounds? Their insidious…rows upon rows of piles just big enough for a horse to break its neck,” Mama shouted at me as I went around the corner.

  “Mountain, Mama. Mountain.”

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  I was trying to pretend I was watching TV, but I was really watching the driveway. I was waiting for Grace and Cole. But let’s face it, I was mostly waiting for Grace. The three of us had work to do, but it was Grace I missed like nothing else.

  It was Grace I needed to make things right with.

&n
bsp; I scrolled through my unanswered messages to her.

  ME: I couldn’t tell him no.

  ME: You said you didn’t want anything more.

  I hated myself for that one.

  ME: You can’t ignore me forever.

  Which had been the stupidest challenge of all, because Grace, like her dad, was all about proving they could do something you said they couldn’t.

  I scrolled until I hit some of the later ones.

  ME: I miss you.

  ME: I need you.

  ME: Please give me a chance to make it right.

  I clenched my phone and my jaw until it felt like they both might break. She was coming, which meant I only had one chance at this. I had a window so small it was almost imaginary in which to fix things.

  I wanted to text her, but I sent a message to her cousin instead.

  ME: Are you on your way?

  COLE: Yeah.

  ME: Is she with you?

  COLE: What, you think I’m shlxting sam striving?

  ME: WTF?

  COLE: Sorry, Grace is driving. I keep hitting the door. You know how it is.

  I couldn’t help a smile. I was pretty sure if Grace hadn’t loved creating stories, she would’ve been a race car driver because she loved going fast, drove wildly, and rarely let anyone else behind the wheel. It was something she got from her dad, just like her blue eyes. I’d seen Seth drive his motorcycle a time or two, and all I could say was, count me out.

  Just as my phone pinged with We’re here, a dark rental came zipping into the driveway, kicking up gravel with the speed of the turn it had taken. Even more rocks went flying when she slammed on the brakes.