by Gigi Blume
“We’re saving thousands of dollars on return airfare,” said Sister Edna. “Take it.”
She shoved it in Wyatt’s hands and wouldn’t let him give it back.
As we pulled out of town I vowed to pay them back and then some.
“Do you know what roads to take?” I asked Wyatt. “We don’t have a GPS.”
I wanted to add that he didn’t have the best track record, but I kept my lips zipped.
“Kevin gave me very specific directions and Sister Ruth said there’s a road map in the glove box.”
“Alright. You drive, I’ll navigate. And as soon as we get to a major city, we’ll get you a phone charger.”
I popped the glove box to find the map, but the most prominent item inside was a gold manilla envelope with our names on it.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Wyatt glanced over, still keeping one eye on the road. “What?”
“There’s four hundred dollars in here and a note that reads Just in case we couldn’t convince you to accept the gas money earlier. Turn around. We’re returning this.”
“We can’t turn back, now. We’re on the highway. You wanna get lost?”
“No, I certainly do not,” I cried.
“Okay then. You said you wanted to pay them back, let’s just add this to the amount we owe them and that’s that.”
“I guess.”
It occurred to me then, how Wyatt’s understanding of my wealth must have been grossly inflated. Sure, I had a movie star brother. But that was him. Not me.
“I’m not the rich girl you think I am.”
Wyatt quickly proclaimed, “I am all about paying my share. I promise. Even if I have to take three jobs—“
“No, it’s not about that. I’m not penniless. Well, technically I was last night, but that’s beside the point. I just don’t want you to think I’m like that evil ex-girlfriend of yours.”
He laughed. “I don’t think that.”
“The truth is, yes, my brother is ludicrously rich. But I don’t like taking hand-outs from him. I earn my own money playing concerts, recording with orchestras, that sort of thing.”
“You should make money playing piano. You’re really good.”
“Thanks. But I don’t have piles of Benjamins laying around my apartment. I play a couple of gigs a month and I get by.”
He nodded, concentrating on his driving duties. “So you don’t make it rain like the rappers do in those music videos?”
“I know I look the type, but no.”
“Well that’s disappointing.”
We rode along, me making sure we were on the right track, he whistling Christmas tunes. It was strange how I felt weirdly close to him yet knew very little about his life. Was I just fooling myself?
“What about you?” I asked, the question burning through me. “Tell me about that rich girl. What made her evil? Besides being rich. That one’s obvious.”
Wyatt hesitated, quietly thinking of the right words to answer my tactlessly intrusive question.
“Never mind. Sorry I asked. I’m too nosey.”
“No, no. It’s fine.” He raked his fingers through his hair, a habit I was rapidly growing fond of. “It’s just where do I begin? There were the horns. I guess that was a red flag right there.”
“Oooh. That would be deal breaker for me,” I deadpanned.
“Yeah, well...I was young and gave my heart away too freely. Totally my fault.”
“I can relate to that.”
“Yeah?” He flashed a blinding side smile. “Anyway, I could never figure out why she never wanted to be seen with me. When I’d ask her to go to the movies or out somewhere with friends, she would say she wanted me all to herself. Turned out she was just slumming it for kicks. I found out she was dating some society dude at the same time.”
“Ouch.” My heart went out to him.
“So I crashed one of her dad’s fancy parties to confront her. And she looked down her nose at me and just majorly insulted me in front of everyone. I knew a lot of the college students there. I thought they were my friends. But they just laughed.”
“I’m so sorry. That is evil.”
He took a fortifying breath and shook it all out of him like it was that easy to toss the memory aside. I wanted to reach out and touch him. Show him some comfort.
“You wanna know why my brother is so protective?” I asked after a minute.
“I know why,” he said. “Because he’s an older brother and he loves you. Simple.”
Not as simple as he thought.
“I gave my heart away, too,” I admitted. “Except I was a lot younger. Jorge was a family friend, practically a brother. When my dad died, Jorge got into a big fight with Will. I didn’t understand it all so I rebelled. I’d go meet him behind my brother’s back, text him all the time. I guess I developed a tiny crush but was too naive to do anything about it.”
“Was he a lot older?”
“Only about five years. But that’s a lot when you’re a teenager.”
Wyatt clenched the steering wheel tighter, already angry on my behalf for something that happened years ago. “So what happened? Did he break your heart?”
“In a way. I found out the hard way he was only using me to get back at my brother. Then he snuck into my room late one night—completely strung out on who-knows-what.”
The veins in Wyatt’s neck grew taut and his nostrils flared when he said, “Did he take advantage of you, Georgia?” There was vengeance in his voice.
“No. Calm down, Thor. My brother saved me. Actually, it was our dog, Lady. If it wasn’t for her barking...”
“I can’t wait to meet your dog. And I’m not gonna lie. I’d like to meet your brother, too.”
I laughed. “You will.”
“So, the guy—Jorge—did he go to jail?”
I sighed, remembering how long it took for Jorge to screw up bad enough for any charges to stick. “Eventually.”
It wasn’t until my brother met Beth—when her then-roommate fell victim to Jorge. Will went to Mexico to track him down. It was years later than I’d hoped, but at least now Jorge couldn’t hurt anybody ever again.
Moving on. I was ready to change the subject.
“Slug bug.” I punched the air between us because I couldn’t reach Wyatt’s arm.
“What?”
“Slug bug. You don’t know that game? When you see a Volkswagen bug—“
“I know the game,” he interrupted. “But there hasn’t been another car for miles. Let alone a VW.”
“I was just getting us started. Want some fudge?” I dipped into my pocket for the napkin of treats I slipped from the church. Wyatt had his own stash, but I figured we’d raid his pockets later.
“Heck yeah. Don’t hold out on me.” He took a hand off the wheel to reach out for some fudge. I swatted it.
“Just keep driving and try to stay on the road this time.”
“Yes, ma’am, Miss Darcy.”
WE TRAVELED FOR SEVERAL hours singing Christmas carols, devouring fudge and A.J.’s banana bread (which was uh-may-ZING) and reminisced about our favorite gifts from Santa. Mine was a dollhouse. Wyatt’s was a Navajo drum. It was the best thing ever to take a peek into Wyatt’s life. He spoke freely about his hopes and dreams, how he switched majors too many times to count, and all the spec screenplays he’d written but tucked away in a file never to see the light of day. I encouraged him to dust them off and send them out.
“Ya never know until you try,” I said, wagging a finger.
We stopped a few times to let Reeses out, filled the tank, and grabbed lunch at a super market. We weren’t about to take anymore chances at roadside diners.
Wyatt studied the map at one of our stops, spreading it out on the kitchenette table. “If we continue to drive with minimal stops we can get to L.A. by six or seven in the morning.”
“That’s nuts,” I said, shaking my head. “We’ll have to rest for a few hours.”
�
��Are you sure? What about the wedding?”
“It’s at four PM,” I assured him. “We’ll be okay.”
After the adventure we’d had so far, even I didn’t believe my own words. But what could be done at this point? I closed my hand over his and gave a comforting squeeze. He jerked his head to meet my gaze, his features alight with awareness. He was so beautiful. I bit my bottom lip to keep my jaw from coming unhinged and his focus instinctively dipped to my mouth then back to focus on my eyes.
I’d never wanted a kiss in my life more than I did just then. I wanted more than a kiss. I wanted everything about Wyatt—the smiles, the small touches, the quirky conversation. I’d even take the zany disasters as long as I could be near him. I channeled all my energy to convey my desire for a kiss in my lazy gaze. What was that come-hither look the heroine always made in my brother’s movies? Hooded eyes? Ah yes. I dropped my lids to half-mast, trying not to blink. My lashes fluttered. So sexy. I had him now.
“Are you okay?” He grimaced. “You look really tired.”
“Tired? No. A little cold, maybe.” I tried the pouty lips next. “I wonder if you could...warm me up?”
He blinked at me. “Why don’t you climb in the back and get in the bed?”
“The bed?!”
Yikes, I better dial the sexy back a notch.
“Yeah. Crawl under the blankets and I’ll wake you up when we make our next stop.” He pranced to the front of the camper and slid in the driver’s seat, whistling Jingle Bells. I eyed Reeses who had his little tongue dangling out of his snout, the corners of his doggie mouth upturned. He was totally laughing at me.
“Do you wanna kiss me?”
He yipped and wagged his tail.
“All right. Come along.” I slugged to the back of the RV and planted myself on the bed. Come to think of it, I was kind of drowsy. Joy kept me up most of the night showing me trending Tik Toks until my eyeballs bled.
Kids these days.
I snuggled under the covers, lifting them up to my chin as Reeses rested his head on my shoulder—his furry whiskers tickling my cheek. The camper rocked into motion and before we drove onto the highway, the soothing rhythm lulled me to sleep.
CHAPTER NINETEEN - GEORGIA
I woke with a start as the RV bounced over the bumpy road. Disoriented and groggy, it took a minute to remember where I was. I’d slept so heavily, I didn’t notice when we left the main highway onto rural streets. I peeked out the back curtain. Rural terrain stretched on as jagged rocks glowed red with the last tinge of the setting sun. Snow-capped mountains stood watch in the distance, safeguarding the dry, uneven foothills dotted with patches of white.
“Where are we?” I stumbled the length of the RV, taming the tangles in my hair.
“New Mexico,” Wyatt chirped.
Reeses was in my seat, the traitor. He perched his front paws on the windowsill so he could see outside and his tail was going a mile a minute. He was so jumpy and excited. I scooped him up and reclaimed my seat as we rolled onto a dirt road passing huge wooden posts which appeared as though they had once been part of a great fence. The serpentine road, pocked with dips and craggy rocks, weaved through small hills and inclined gently into a forest of odd-looking pines. The RV rocked and swayed as we rambled up the road, reaching a stretch of farm land resembling an old ranch. It could have been a scene from an old western if it weren’t for the gleaming red Chevy parked below the steps of a stunning flat-roofed adobe house.
Wyatt parked the RV and grinned at me, his teeth dazzling across his face.
"We're here."
"Where's here exactly?"
Reeses went ballistic. He lept off my lap and bounded over to Wyatt, scratching on the driver's side window.
"Okay, already. Calm down peanut."
The crazy little dog shook all over like he couldn't stand being inside the RV a second more. How long had the poor thing been holding it?
Wyatt cracked the door and Reeses bolted. I didn't see where he went at first, guessing he'd found a tree to baptize, but then he came into view galloping up the steps toward the house, barking all the way.
"Wow, he's really gone bonkers. Did he find a squirrel?'
Wyatt reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, grazing his knuckles along my cheek as he retracted his hand.
"Come on before he gets into too much trouble.”
He spun his legs around and hopped out onto the gravel, closing the door behind him.
“Wait! Wyatt. What is this place?”
He didn’t hear me. He was already heading up, two steps at a time.
I stumbled out to join him, still not completely awake until the cold hit me. I turned right back around to get our coats.
The house stood prominently on high ground with stone steps leading to a gravel foot path. Desert brush and cacti lined the walkways and served as ground cover. And the whole area was lit up by luminaries.
When I caught up, Wyatt was waiting for me at the top landing of the steps. He reached out as I approached, not for the coat, even though I handed it to him, but for my hand. He leveled his gaze on me, filling his chest with the crisp air, and ran his thumb over my wrist. The most peaceful wave ran though me, and there with a backdrop of the deep blue sky and the warm paper bag lights, he glowed. Beyond real, in a Photoshop sort of way.
“Wyatt? Is that you?” An older woman called excitedly, running down the foot path. “Good heavens!”
She was a petite, slender woman in her fifties with cropped auburn hair, wire rimmed glasses and the friendliest smile imaginable. She had a free, salt-of-the earth quality. Reeses ran in circles around her as she hurried along, wiping her hands on her apron. Wyatt met her halfway and threw his arms around her, squeezing her for a long moment.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said through tears. “Home for Christmas. Let me look at you.”
She held his shoulders at arm’s length, which wasn’t very far for her. She had to crane her neck to see his face.
“Ma, I want you to meet someone,” he said, turning his eyes to me. She wiped her cheeks and shifted to look at me. Her whole face lit up and a bright smile spread wide across her features.
“Is this the one?” she said, beaming at me.
The one?
“Hi, I’m Georgia.” I closed the distance and offered my hand. She brushed it aside and swooped in for a hug.
“Wyatt’s told me so much about you,” she said, breaking the hug to squeeze my hands. “You’re even prettier than he described.”
“Ma!”
I had no idea how pretty I looked at present considering my bedhead and the dried up drool in the corner of my mouth. Also, I was fairly certain I had pillow marks on my face.
“Uh, thanks?”
She scrunched up her nose adorably. “Let’s get you two inside. I was just about to make biscochitos.”
We followed her up to the house, our path illuminated by the paper bag lanterns, each one with a flaming votive candle inside. They were everywhere—even covering the perimeter of the roof. It was one of the most spectacular sights I’d ever seen.
“Should we be worried about a fire hazard?” I whispered to Wyatt.
“Nah. She lights these every Christmas Eve.” He lifted my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles. “It’s tradition.”
Heaven help me, those lips were even more velvety than they looked. I turned to goo right then and there.
He tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow and pointed out areas of interest like a proud tour guide:
These agave plants have been here for seventy-five years.
and:
My great-grandpa built this house with his bare hands. He formed every adobe brick out of mud and hay.
It was all so beautiful and fascinating. The inside of the house was adorned with a mixture of Spanish and Native American decor. Cast iron sconces flanked a mantle made of reclaimed wood, the floor was a terra cotta tile, dried red chili peppers hung in
wreaths in the archways, and colorful water color paintings of men in feathered headdresses or dark-haired beauties adorned every wall.
Wyatt’s mother was a work of art herself. She wore a pink western button down with fringe pockets, a woven vest with embroidered orange doves, and enough turquoise jewelry to open a shop on eBay. She wasted no time in serving up some hot cocoa and planted us on the sofa right in front of the fireplace. Reeses made himself at home on the rug.
“Thank you, Mrs. Silva.” I blew on the cup, enjoying the warm steam on my face.
“Oh, please, call me Anita. Most of my children do. Except for Wyatt.” She winked at him. I got the sense he was her favorite, even though no mother would admit such a thing.
“Your sisters will be so surprised.” She leaned over and draped her hand on Wyatt’s knee. Palanca and Steven are coming. You won’t recognize Sophia, she’s almost two, and if she stays awake at Mass, we’ll let her open one present.”
“Palanca’s your sister?”
Wyatt nodded. “Yeah. Listen, Ma—“
“Janet and Jennifer,” she glanced at me and then added, “Those are the twins. They said they’d try to make it tonight but for sure will be here in the morning.”
Wyatt tried again to speak but she went on. “Claire couldn’t make it this year...”
“Second youngest,” added Wyatt. “She’s backpacking through Europe.”
“And Vickie’s around here somewhere. She was supposed to clean her room.” She rolled her eyes. “Teenagers.”
I giggled. My roommate at Juilliard was as messy as a teen.
Wyatt squeezed Anita’s hand. “Ma, we can’t stay. We’re only here for a couple of hours and then have to get back on the road.”
Anita studied his face for some time, maybe trying to find the joke in his eyes.
Just kidding, we’re staying forever. Surprise!
“It’s Christmas Eve, Wyatt. You’re here now, the best Christmas present I could ask for...and you’re not staying?” There was hurt in her voice and my heart cracked a little. I’d do anything to spend one more Christmas with my parents. I hardly knew my mother—what a gift Wyatt had.
