Ghosts of Christmas (Steamy Bwwm Holiday Romance)

by Kenya Wright

I had no answer.

  “Grandpa, how big do you want the stripes?” Younger Me yelled from the bedroom and rushed out. “Grandpa? Grandma. . .why are you crying?”

  “I can’t be here.” I stepped through the red energy and entered a new living room. I recognized the area immediately. It was my grandmother’s new apartment. After Grandpa passed, she couldn’t stay in the old house anymore. They’d lived there since my mother was a little girl. It held too many memories.

  Younger Me sat on the couch, wearing all black and watching Holly put ornaments on the small Christmas tree. She just stared at the tree as if it were the most disgusting symbol that ever existed. Younger Me shook her head. “What is the point of this?”

  Holly ignored me. “I think the theme should be blue. Saint, find all the blue ornaments.”

  He rolled his eyes and rummaged through the box. He’d changed from the earlier visions of him. Now he was tall and would be growing more. There were more differences too.

  I smiled at the glowing ghost. “I remember this. It’s Saint’s bad boy phase.”

  At thirteen, his parents would never let him get tattoos. Therefore, he drew symbols on his fingers, arms, and neck. He wore all black—jeans, shirt, and a beanie. He’d pierced both of his ears to his mother’s horror. Apparently, he’d stolen a piercing needle from some store, sterilized it, and poked holes into both ears. Thankfully, he never got an infection.

  “What if there aren’t a lot of blue?” Bad boy Saint grabbed a few blue ornaments and brought them to Holly. “What’s the point of the theme?”

  Younger Me nodded. “Seriously.”

  “News flash. We’re decorating.” Holly stared at us as if we were insane. “It’s fun. Are you kidding me? And get some more blue, Saint.”

  “I quit. This is stupid.” Saint groaned, walked over to the couch, and dropped down next to Younger Me. “Besides, Ivy isn’t even doing it anyway.”

  Younger me shrugged. “Because I don’t see the point. It’s just a tree.”

  “Guys, it’s not just a tree.” Holly pointed at it. “It’s a Christmas tree. This is the tree that helped the wise men find Jesus.”

  Younger Me laughed. “No. It’s not.”

  Holly looked pissed. “It is.”

  “There’s no Christmas tree in the bible, Holly.” Younger Me shook her head. “It was just a star.”

  “Just a star!” Holly shrieked. “It was the star of Bethlehem and it was on the top of the tree, leading the three wise men to the son of God.”

  Saint laughed. “And then they all had eggnog and stuffed stockings? And Santa came into the manger and grabbed Mary’s tits.”

  Holly’s face turned red. “You’re going to hell, Saint.”

  “I hope so.” Saint grinned. “I like warmer temperatures anyway.”

  Younger Me high-fived him. “Good one.”

  Someone knocked at the door.

  “I’ll get it!” Grandma hurried out of the kitchen and glanced at the tree. “Aww! Holly, you’re doing such a great job. I love the blue.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Johnson.”

  Grandma rushed off. “Looks like Holly will be getting extra cookies for jumping into the Christmas spirit.”

  “As I deserve.” Holly stuck her tongue at the both of us.

  Saint flipped her off.

  Younger Me looked at the letters on his fingers, grabbed his hand, and brought it to her. “These are new. What does it say?”

  Beaming, he didn’t move his hand away. “It says Devil’s Rejects.”

  “I’ll get my own ornaments.” Holly snorted in disgust from the other side of the room and headed to the box of ornaments.

  Younger Me read more of the words on his fingers. “What’s the Devil’s Rejects?”

  “A Rob Zombie movie. I brought it along if you want to watch it.”

  Younger Me nodded. “Sure. I have a DVD player in my bedroom.”

  “Guys!” Holly held her hand out. “That’s not a Christmas movie.”

  “At least there is a baby in it.” Saint laughed.

  “That movie is about psychopaths.”

  Younger Me brightened for the first time. “Now that sounds good.”

  “Just come on in.” Grandma returned with her friend Maude. “Nikolas, my granddaughter is over there with her friends. You can help them decorate the tree.”

  A boy nervously said, “Sounds good, Mrs. Johnson.”

  We all looked up. Using a walker, Maude eased into the living room. Her grandson Nikolas trotted after her, holding a big book in his hand. I checked out the title but only could see the author was Stephen King.

  “Hey. That’s Stephen King.” Saint grinned at him. “You like horror too? We were just about to go to Ivy’s room and watch the Devil’s Rejects.”

  “The Devil’s what? Lord Jesus. We’re not doing anything with the devil’s name in this apartment.” Grandma shook her head. “Saint, you come on in the kitchen with Maude and me. You can help us with dinner.”

  Saint frowned and dragged himself up. “Yes ma’am.”

  She glanced at him. “You ever cooked anything before?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Good. You need to learn something useful so you stop drawing crazy things all over yourself.”

  The glowing man got in front of me. “It’s time to go, Ivy.”

  I shook my head. “I would rather stay here. This memory isn’t too bad.”

  “We must go.” He pointed to the door.

  It was already open.

  I dragged myself away, wondering what would be next.

  Chapter 9

  Grandma Got Runover by a Reindeer

  Still with the glowing Ghost, I walked into Saint’s old bedroom. He wore a black suit with a black shirt. The black drawings on his hands and neck were gone. The suit looked familiar but I couldn’t remember when he’d worn it.

  He stood in the center even taller than I’d last seen him. No one else was around. Tears left his blue eyes. He quickly wiped them away. “Why, God? Why do you keep doing this to her? She doesn’t deserve it.”

  “Who doesn’t deserve it?” I yearned to hold him and spoke as if he could hear me, “What’s wrong, Saint?”

  He picked up a thick binder.

  “Oh.” I immediately recognized it.

  When Grandma passed, she didn’t have much. In her will, she left me some money. The rest of her items went to various cousins in the family. But surprisingly, she’d given all her secret recipes to Saint.

  For the four years she lived after Grandpa’s death, she always called Saint over and had him help her with cooking. His parents loved it because she began to demand that he clean himself up before coming to her apartment. He couldn’t have the odd devil markings on his skin. She even convinced him to stop dying his blonde hair black. On Sundays, he had to wear a nice suit and was expected to go to church with us. Of course, Holly came along. She was my bestie after all. And she’d found a liking to Maude’s grandson Nikolas. He went to my church too so that gave her a great excuse to hang around him.

  “Is there a God?” Saint sat on the bed, opened the binder, and browsed all of my Grandma’s secret recipes. “I miss you already, ma’am.”

  More tears came.

  A knock came at the door.

  Wiping the tears away, he rushed to close the binder, placed it under his pillow, and yelled, “Come in!”

  Young Me stepped through.

  I parted my lips as I studied her in. My breasts were close to fully developed. My hips had widened. While I wore a loose-fitting black dress that passed my knees, it did not do a good job of hiding my new curves.

  “Now, I know what this is,” I whispered, “It’s Grandma’s funeral.”

  The glowing ghost came to my side. “This is odd.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not Christmas.”

  “Almost. She died the first day of December.” Sorrow overtook me. “I hate this month.”

  Saint
rose and embraced my younger self. “I’m so sorry, Ivy.”

  He wrapped his arms tight around her waist. She lay her head on his chest but didn’t hug him back. No tears left her eyes although devastation filled them.

  A sad expression covered Saint’s face. “Ivy, tell me what you need.”

  She closed her eyes. “Just don’t leave me for a while, Saint.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  Another knock came. Saint’s mother yelled through the door. “Honey, have you seen Ivy? Her father is here.”

  Terror filled Young Me’s eyes. She left Saint’s embrace and shook her head.

  Saint nodded. “No, Mom. I haven’t seen Ivy since the funeral. She must be in Holly’s room.”

  “I already checked,” she said through the door. “Holly left to get more juice with Nikolas.”

  “Then she probably went with them.”

  “Okay.” His mother sounded worried. “If you hear from them, let me know.”

  Young Ivy returned to Saint’s embrace. This time she held him back. “Thank you. I can’t see him. It’s been so long and I still hate him.”

  “I know.”

  “I won’t go stay with him. I’ll run away if I have to.”

  “Maybe you can finish high school here and live with us.”

  “You’re parents probably wouldn’t like that.”

  “They love you as much as they love us.”

  “It would be asking too much.”

  “Holly and I would give them hell if they didn’t agree.”

  “That’s too much, Saint.”

  “I would do anything for you, Ivy.” Saint held her tighter. “Whatever you need. Just tell me.”

  Her voice was soft and sad. “Thank you. Holly has always been a sister to me, and you a brother.”

  Saint frowned. “I see it differently.”

  She raised her head and looked at him. “How?”

  He opened his mouth and then closed it.

  “Saint?” She left his embrace. “Do you. . .want me to leave or—”

  Fast, he closed the distance, took her in his arms, and kissed her. She gasped as his tongue went in her mouth.

  “Wow.” I held myself, remembering that moment as if it were yesterday. “How did I. . .forget about this?”

  The next minute, he let her go and stepped back.

  She widened her eyes and held her hands to the side. No words left her opened mouth.

  “That wasn’t a good idea.” Saint ran his fingers through his hair. “I mean. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, but your grandmother said not to even think about it until you had a college degree, which I thought was crazy but. . .”

  My younger self stood frozen, listening to him.

  “Not that she was crazy.” Saint looked down at his feet. “I’m going to miss her and. . .I wanted to hug you all day because you looked so sad. You looked. . .how I felt and. . .and when you came so close to me all I could think about was kissing you. It just sucks that I did it today.”

  Young Me stepped forward. Her hands shook at her sides. “Could you. . .”

  Saint looked at her. “What?”

  “Could you do that again?”

  Saint didn’t spend a second thinking about it. He had her back in his arms and his mouth on hers in seconds.

  I reached my hands out, wanting to touch them. It was so odd. I know that it was me right there, but. . .I still felt like an outsider, yearning to be a part of this private moment.

  The glowing man’s voice sounded. “Ivy.”

  I dragged my view from them. “Yes?”

  He pointed to the opened doorway, showing the swirling red energy.

  “Of course. Always when it’s getting good.” I walked over to the doorway and stepped through.

  I returned to Saint’s bedroom again. This time it was dark. Christmas lights hung along the ceiling. Baby, It’s Cold Outside played in the background. I knew what was happening without even having to look at the bed.

  I whispered, “Our senior year.”

  There, teenaged versions of Saint and I made out on his bed with their clothes off. Since Holly and he were Seniors in high school and didn’t want to do the typical Christmas celebration, their parents decided to go to Hawaii instead. They left us with strict instructions—no guests, parties, or ordering out.

  Although I tried to stop them, Holly and Saint broke every rule. His parents had agreed to let me stay with them. My father didn’t fight them. Perhaps he’d given up with all my hiding and running away when he came to visit.

  Holly invited Nikolas and several people over. They ordered pizza while even more showed up. After a few drinks of whiskey from their father’s hidden bottle in his office, Saint and I snuck off to his bedroom.

  I grinned, remembering how nervous I was about the party. In the end, we cleaned up before their parents returned.

  On the bed, Saint whispered to Young Me, “Are you sure?”

  Lust filled those young eyes. Still, she nodded at him. “Please.”

  “Tell me when to stop. It might hurt.”

  “You’re so. . .big.”

  A dark moan left him.

  Right when he was about to enter, she placed her hands on his chest. “Have. . .”

  “What?”

  “Have you done this before?”

  “I wish. Then, I would know exactly what I was doing. You deserve it, but. . .”

  She widened her eyes. “You’re a virgin too?”

  “Ivy, I’m always with you. Who else would I have sex with?”

  “Lisa Henderson is always around you—”

  “Lisa Henderson isn’t you. I ignore her. Besides, I don’t want to talk about that.” He lowered and kissed her.

  She moaned with pleasure.

  Heat spread across my skin as if I were right in that bed.

  Saint lifted his head. “I love you, Ivy.”

  Terror covered her face. And then it was like snow filled the room. They both went cold.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Saint moved away. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t plan to love anyone.” She sat up and raised the sheet over her bare breasts. “But. . .we can still—”

  “What?”

  “I’ll always love you like a brother.”

  “I’m not your fucking brother, Ivy.”

  “I know, but. . .you know what I mean.”

  I covered my face, hating to have to relive this moment. “Damn. I was messing up from the very beginning.”

  The glowing man nudged me.

  I looked at him. “We have to go?”

  He nodded.

  On the bed, Saint and Young Me stared at each other in awkward silence. The Christmas lighting flickered along their bodies.

  There would be no sex that evening.

  “I wish I could say it gets easier, guys.” I backed away, knowing they couldn’t hear me. “It doesn’t. You two are a hot mess.”

  I left them and followed the ghost. “Now where are we going?”

  “The lesson is almost done.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Ivy, please. Be careful with your words.”

  “Sorry.”

  The next room was my college dorm at the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York. It was empty. Seconds later, the door opened.

  “Oh, God.” I shook my head. “Not this night.”

  College Me stumbled into my dorm kissing some guy. I think I’d called him Yellow. I recognized it as my Senior year in college. Somehow, I was still a virgin, although I kissed and made out with many. Once Saint refused to take my virginity long ago, I avoided him for a while which was impossible. He always remained in my life. There was no way I could start a relationship with another boy in high school. Everyone knew Saint liked me. Being that he was a giant compared to the other boys, nobody dared to approach me.

  Mr. Madison made sure I saved the money that my grandmother left me. He’d even added some which made me
cry. That being said, my education would be all on me. No one else would be there to help. When I went to college, I shifted my focus to books. The savings and financial aid helped me take care of freshman tuition. In the second year, I earned a scholarship and spent the rest of the years maintaining my G.P.A to keep those scholarships.

  I still had not talked to my father.

  “You’re so hot,” Yellow growled and squeezed my breasts. “I’m going to rub my dick all over you, baby. I’m going to rub my balls on you too.”

  “Okay.” College Me stepped back and pulled off my shirt. “Less talk and more kissing, yellow.”

  “Who’s yellow?”

  “That’s my cute little nickname for you.”

  “Love it. I’ll be your yellow, sexy.” He didn’t remove his shirt. Instead, he took off his jogging pants and underwear. His hard cock bobbled against the shirt. While he wasn’t Saint’s size, I remember thinking that he would do.

  “Girl.” I shook my head at College Me. “You have no idea what’s going to happen. This is a train wreck.”

  A knock came.

  College Me looked at the door. “Shit. Hide in the closet. It might be Sharon. She’s on duty for this floor. I’ll get rid of her.”

  “Okay. And then I’m going to rub my dick and balls all over—”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Just get in the closet.”

  College Me hurried over to the door and opened it. “Hey, Sharon. I’m just—”

  “Merry Christmas!” Holly yelled.

  The shock on my younger self was priceless. “Oh shit.”

  Holly stepped through the door, holding a big Christmas wreath. Nikolas was by her side. Saint walked in after them.

  “Uh.” College Me raised her hands in the air. “What are you all doing here?”

  Holly kissed her cheek and walked off. “You think we would let you spend Christmas by yourself, studying in some dorm?”

  Saint looked at me. His gaze went over my body. An odd recognition sparkled in his eyes. Instead of saying hello, he stalked off and scanned the room.

  “Girl.” I shook my head, hating to watch this. “You just don’t know.”

  “Yay. You all are. . .here.” College Me shrieked. “Hey! Uh. We should go out to a bar or something.”

  “It’s super snowing.” Holly pulled out a bottle of rum and whiskey from her bottle. “We brought the bar to us. And we paid off this girl on the floor. Shelly or something. Saint gave her a hundred-dollar bill. She said we could stay as long as we wanted.”