A Wedding for Christmas_Sweet Holiday Romance
Page 9
The conditions in Afghanistan had grown worse as the entire Middle East had exploded with different groups and factions jockeying for power. Sawyer was a tough man, but he also stood out as an obvious American. It would not be entirely safe for him.
Of course, Tyler understood why Sawyer had to drop everything to go. As soon as Zulu heard the news, she’d hopefully stop being self-destructive and possibly join the veterans group so she could be updated with news of the search.
As for the wedding, Tyler would just as soon elope with Kelly. After the fiasco with little Matt trying to kiss Bree behind the counter in the church foyer, Kelly had been beside herself with anger, and it was all Tyler could do to keep her in line.
Ford was his only relative, and he wanted to keep things civil between them. Ford seemed adamant that Matt be the ring bearer, which meant Tyler was caught between Kelly and Ford on that issue.
As for Bree, she was convinced Matt would have loved her if he had actually kissed her, and she was upset at her mother for saying she didn’t want Matt to be the ring bearer.
What a mess.
A text message chimed on his phone, interrupting their prayers, and Tyler hastily silenced his phone.
It was from Kelly. I haven’t heard back from the clinic about the request from Bree’s sperm donor.
Maybe there’s nothing to worry about. He texted back.
How can I sleep not knowing what this medical condition is about?
Sometimes, Kelly drove him up the wall with her anxiety. Tyler closed his eyes and took several calming breaths before texting back.
If it’s serious, the clinic will let us know.
He put his phone into his pocket and opened his Bible. He used to think his life was stressful with the PTSD and flashbacks, but being around Kelly was a different kind of stress. Somehow, being the one in control of these tiny nonconsequential situations put all of his wartime trauma into perspective.
If he could be the strong shoulders for Kelly to hang onto, then certainly, the past could not harm him or his family. It was over. It would always be a part of him. But it would not define him. He would not be a war-scarred veteran with PTSD.
He had to help Zulu see through it, although her trauma was greater—being violated as a woman in the worse possible way. Having her sister back would be the first step toward a new identity.
He lowered his head and prayed Sawyer would be successful in his mission. Both Zulu and Hawa deserved better than to be forever traumatized. They were too precious in God’s eyes to be deserted and left to fend for themselves.
~ Kelly ~
I catch myself right before I nibble off my fingernail. This is nuts. Crazy. My wedding’s in less than two weeks, and Tyler’s best man quit. My sister’s upset because the man she thought was her boyfriend jumped on an airplane to Afghanistan to look for another woman’s sister. My mother is beside herself because she can’t decide whether she wants my bigamist father to show up or not. And my daughter is holding a grudge against me because I didn’t let her kiss that awful Matt Sanders.
Fortunately, my boss let me take a day off to run errands. Ella and I rush through Costco grabbing chocolate treats, ribbons, sprigs of fake holly, tiny bottles of champagne, and goodie bags.
“Do you think Tyler will let Kirk be the best man?” Ella helps me put items on the checkout belt.
Kirk is our half-brother from the other “Mrs. Kennedy,” the illegitimate wife that my father hid from us growing up. Unfortunately, dear old dad ended up choosing her and her old money lifestyle once his divorce from our mother was final.
“Wouldn’t that be awkward? It’s important for Tyler to have his people in the wedding, too. I’m sure he’ll come up with another buddy.”
“I guess I shouldn’t worry about it.” Ella looks dejected. “I understand why Sawyer is going to Afghanistan to look for Zulu’s sister, but I don’t see why he couldn’t wait until after Christmas.”
“They want to get word out onto the street he’s there searching, so Zulu will have hope.” I repeat Tyler’s mantra and rationalization on why Sawyer dropped my sister flat. “What exactly did Sawyer say to you when he left?”
“He said he still wanted to see me when he returns, that this isn’t anything to do with me,” Ella said. “But I know better than that. He’s not that into me.”
“Are you really into him?” I hook a sideways glance at my sister’s pale face as I slip my credit card into the chip reader. “I mean, you’ve been casually dating for a while already.”
“And?” One of Ella’s feet twirls back and forth on her toes, a sure sign of anxiety.
“I would have thought you’d at least move in together, or I don’t know, make a commitment. Are you two exclusive?”
“We were, as far as I knew,” Ella says. “But seeing the way he looked at Zulu makes me feel she’s the one who lights up his life.”
“She needs rescuing. You know how men are when there’s a damsel in distress.” I try to minimize the ramifications of Sawyer’s sudden departure.
“Right. What is it with me? Men are always leaving me for some mission or other.” She presses her hands over her slim, trim body. She dresses fashionably enough, with stylish clothes and a sweet pixie haircut. She’s really a great person. She gave up a high paying computer job to do the charitable giving program for Mogul Bank. She’s not the clinging type, and I can’t see anything she does that drives men away.
“It’s not you, Ella. It’s them. They don’t know a good thing.” I push the loaded shopping cart toward the store exit. “You know what I think? After the new year, you should take up your boss’s offer and work out of the London office.”
“You trying to get rid of me?” She gives me a playful shove.
“Not at all. I want someone to visit. Besides, next time you get into a relationship, it’ll be you doing the leaving when you come back home. It might give you a different perspective.”
What am I doing? I want my sister here. Even though we have a ten-year age difference, she’s the one who always cheers me up with her quirks and fun loving ways. But truthfully, she needs to branch out and live life on her own terms. Leave these losers behind.
“You might just be right.” She twirls around on her tippy toes and hops into the cab of Tyler’s truck. “Who knows? Maybe all I need is a mission—a cause I can sink my teeth into.”
Now that I have my sister’s life squared away, my worries turn to Bree. “I wish I knew why Bree’s donor tried to contact us, and now he’s not following up.”
“Did you call the clinic?”
“I did, and the director said she doesn’t know any of the details. Only whether we would allow him to contact us or not. Since I gave consent, he has our address and phone number, but we don’t know who he is.” A shiver goes down my spine. “Do you think he might have been the one taking pictures of Bree at the park?”
“I thought you pegged Tyler’s cousin as the culprit.” Ella says as I drive away from the parking lot.
“He’d have no reason to follow Bree around. Besides, Matt would have recognized him.”
“Assuming Matt is telling the truth.” Two frown lines appear between Ella’s eyebrows. “There’s something phony about that boy. Have you noticed?”
“Not at all. He’s a brat, plain and simple, and Bree thinks she’s in love with him.” I stomp on the brakes as a bicyclist cuts in front of me. “I shouldn’t have to worry about boys for another seven years at least.”
“Bree is a cute girl. Heck, I remember kissing boys in kindergarten.” Ella chuckles.
“I didn’t get my first kiss until college,” I grumble, wondering how the simple fact Ella has blond hair can make such a difference in social skills. “Tyler thinks this is all too funny and cute. I’m afraid he doesn’t have a father’s protective instincts. He should be the one with the shotgun, not me.”
“You’re overreacting.” Ella shakes her head. One side of her mouth lifts with a wry grin. “She�
��ll soon forget Matt. The only reason she’s fighting so hard is because it pisses you off. Look at me. I’m not hung up on the guy who first kissed me.”
“Seriously? Was he that bad?”
“Nope. He was sweet. A redhead. Poor guy got made fun of all the time.”
“And you kissed him? What for?”
“I liked him,” Ella states simply. “He moved when we were in first grade, and I was devastated.”
“How come I don’t remember any of this?” I turn the corner toward my house.
“I never told anyone. He’s my little secret. At least Bree’s is out in the open.” She chuckles to herself.
“You said you think Matt’s phony, so I should put a stop to all of this.” I bring the conversation back to my major worry.
“Maybe. Maybe not. I feel someone’s putting him up to this ring bearer thing. He runs hot and cold.”
“Right. It feels forced,” I agree. “Like Tyler’s cousin has another reason for wanting him to be it.”
“Other than the fact he’s family?”
Ella shudders and shrugs at the same time. “The one-eighty was strange. First the mother doesn’t want him to do it, then they’re insisting. It almost feels they’re kissing up to you.”
“Or Tyler. I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” Ella is quick to retreat when challenged. It might be good for her to go out on her own and toughen up.
15
~ Kelly ~
Ella’s words bother me more than I’d like to admit. Maybe it’s the same way with my stepmother and half-brothers. They don’t really want to come to my wedding because they barely know me, but they feel obliged.
We’re family in name only.
Same with Ford and Tyler. When Tyler was homeless, he didn’t turn to his cousin for help. But then again, he didn't think he needed help.
Most likely, Tyler didn’t want to seem pathetic back then. Maybe it’s part of Tyler’s emotional growth that he now feels confident enough to reconnect with his only relatives.
I pace back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the school and peer into the schoolyard, waiting for the children to be dismissed.
“Excuse me.” A woman taps my shoulder. It’s Sheryl Sanders. “I meant to apologize for what happened on Sunday. One minute, Matt was standing next to me talking to the pastor, and the next, he was gone. I’ve already explained to him that he should not be trying to kiss girls.”
“Thanks, I agree with you,” I reply. It’s never too early to stop bad behavior. “I’ve also talked to Bree about not accepting candy or anything to eat from classmates. It’s very upsetting he thought the lollipop was payment for a kiss.”
“I’ve spoken to him about this,” Sheryl says. “I’ve also told him that whether he’s the ring bearer or not, he needs to keep his hands off your daughter. He will be punished if he touches her.”
“I’ll reiterate the same to Bree. They are too young for this pretend boyfriend-girlfriend thing.” I watch as the children march toward the gate, ready for dismissal.
“Exactly. I’m okay with Matt being the ring bearer,” she says. “Once Ford told me Tyler was his cousin, well, I didn’t want to get in the way of family.”
It was exactly what I thought, but since it’s important for Tyler, I simply thank her and accept Matt as the ring bearer.
The children are dismissed and stream out of the gate. Matt and Bree run toward us, holding hands.
“Mommy, can Bree come with us to see Santa?” Matt hugs his mother and bounces on his toes.
“Please, Mama.” Bree skips at my side.
Sheryl looks at me. “Is it okay with you? We’re going to the mall after dinner tonight.”
“I have some last minute shopping I need to do.” I want to be agreeable, especially since they’ve agreed to help with the wedding. Except, it’s hard to forget all the antagonism I had stored up with Sheryl.
“Give me a call around six, and we’ll meet up,” Sheryl says. She glances at Matt and Bree who are chatting amiably. “I’m glad they’re not fighting.”
So am I. Except they’re flirting. And this boy’s a son of Tyler’s cousin, so that makes them related, even if distantly.
I take a hurried calming breath. It’s okay. Right? Ella had a little boyfriend when she was in kindergarten and it turned out to be a pleasant memory. Nothing more. The ghost of Tyler and his past with Zulu is only a manifestation of cold feet. Right. Nothing to worry about.
At least the ring bearer problem is solved, and both Matt’s mother and I are in agreement for our children to get along as friends.
Everything’s okay. Twelve days until Christmas, almost there.
~ Tyler ~
True to his word, Sawyer caught a military transport and was gone the next day. His last request was for Tyler to get word to Zulu and let her know he was looking for Hawa.
Tyler was already worried about Zulu, wondering where she’d gone after leaving his house. He strolled down the streets near where he’d encountered her, but she wasn’t at her spot. Fortunately, her friend with the cell phone was hanging around outside a drug store.
“Have you seen Zulu?” Tyler asked the woman, who was smoking a joint.
“Oh, it’s you again,” the garishly made-up woman said. “You must really care about her, don’t you?”
“I do, and I want to help her.”
“I wish you’d help me.” The woman angled her hips and jutted out her chest. “I could really use a place to stay for the night.”
“There are shelters.” Tyler slipped her a twenty. “Can you help me find Zulu?”
“I don’t think she wants to be found.” The woman slipped the twenty into her jeans pocket. “She’s on a job right now, if you know what I mean.”
Tyler’s skin crawled at the implications. “Could you pass a message for me?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Tyler gave the woman another twenty. “Tell her she’s welcome at my place for dinner every day and that Sawyer’s gone to Afghanistan to find her sister.”
“Lucky Zulu.” The woman whistled. “Can I come to your place for dinner? Offer’s still open about warming your bed. I’m sure I can ring your bell, if you know what I mean.”
“Give Zulu my message, okay?” Tyler gave the woman another twenty and turned on his heels. He couldn’t imagine what Zulu was going through, having been held as a sex slave and now, prostituting herself when she could be accepting help from friends.
He had to get her off the streets and into rehab—followed by vocational training so she could get her own job and not depend on turning tricks for a living.
Sawyer had said Zulu could stay at his apartment while he was gone. It would at least be a roof over her head and get her off the streets. Hopefully, she would get the message about Sawyer looking for her sister and come by to find out more. He crossed his fingers and said a prayer for her.
Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it could also keep her alive until hope kicked in.
16
~ Kelly ~
Bree can barely contain herself as we drive toward the mall. It’s the same place where she met Tyler two years ago.
I hook a glance in the rear view mirror as she bounces in her seat, counting to herself with her fingers. Seems my little princess has more than one Christmas wish. I hope none of them involve boys.
Beside her, Arman drools and chews on his knuckles. He’s still too little to understand the excitement, but Bree’s happiness makes him smile and kick his little feet.
I love being a mother, and truly, I wish I had more time to spend with them. I can’t believe I’d forgotten to take them to see Santa at the mall, although they did get to sit on his lap at the tree farm. Unfortunately, now that Bree knows there are many Santas, she wants to visit them all.
“Can we go on the Christmas train this year?” Bree asks. “We have more money, don’t we?”
The first y
ear we were out here, I had just gotten out of prison and couldn’t spare both the train fare and the jumbo candy cane Bree wanted.
“We do, but we should be careful with our spending. We have to make choices. You can have the train ride or the candy cane, but not both.” I don’t want her to grow up spoiled.
“Matt says he’s buying me the candy cane, so I get to have the train ride.” Bree smiles to herself, looking smug.
“We also shouldn’t let boys buy things for us, because they’ll want something in return.” I steer the car into the underground parking garage.
“He doesn’t want anything except to be my friend.” Bree unstraps her seatbelt before I put the car in park.
“Bree, how many times have I told you to stay in your booster seat with the belt on?” I stop the car and put the transmission in park. “You have to wait until I shut off the car.”
“But I don’t want Matt to wait too long for us.” She hops from her booster seat.
“It’s okay to keep boys waiting. Girls who are early look too eager.” I might as well prepare her for real life.
“But, Mama, you’re never late, and you say we should always be prompt.” She pops the locks into the unlock position.
“Wait for me to open the door.”
The last thing I want is for her to jump out into traffic. People can get very impatient, especially in a crowded parking garage. There’s so much to worry about in a large city like San Francisco.
A few minutes later, we’re on the floor of a huge indoor courtyard, decorated to the gills with Christmas snow, glittery garlands, pine boughs, and red ribbons. This year’s theme is an “Old Fashioned Christmas,” and the Christmas train runs through villages of gingerbread houses and evergreen trees frosted with fake snow and glitter.
“Look, Mama. There’s the mall Santa. I remember him from last year.” Bree points to a large gazebo decorated with pine boughs and holly. “I hope he remembers me.”