A Winter Wedding (Whiskey Creek)

by Brenda Novak

He met up with her as she came around the front of his vehicle.

  “Hey, look who’s here!” His father had descended the ladder he’d been using and was walking toward them. “We weren’t expecting to see you until tomorrow,” he said to Kyle. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you working?”

  “It’s Saturday,” Kyle said.

  “That makes a difference to you? Because it hasn’t for the past several months.” He adjusted the bill of his cap so he could get a better look at Lourdes. “Who’s this?”

  Just in case Brandon hadn’t shared the fact that they had a country-western star in town, Kyle scrambled to come up with a response that wouldn’t give her identity away. “Uh, my new tenant.”

  But Lourdes suddenly piped up, providing her real name as she stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  His father grinned and kept his eyes fastened to her face while addressing him. “Where’d you find this gal?”

  “Through a place on the internet that lists rentals all over the country.”

  “I guessed she was an out-of-towner. We would’ve noticed someone this pretty long before now.”

  “She’s from Nashville.” His father, Bob, didn’t show any sign of recognition, which led Kyle to believe that Brandon hadn’t mentioned her.

  “You should’ve put an ad on the internet long before now,” he said with a laugh.

  “I didn’t have an available rental,” Kyle pointed out.

  Brandon climbed down from his ladder, too. “Good to see you, brother.”

  Kyle wondered if Brandon would indicate that he knew who Lourdes was, but he didn’t. He merely smiled, introduced himself and shook Lourdes’s hand.

  “Looks like Dad’s put you to work.” Kyle gestured toward the string of lights dangling from the last hook.

  “It was Mom who asked us to come over,” Brandon explained. “She wanted Olivia’s help baking cookies for the church Christmas party this evening.”

  “Did you say cookies?” Kyle echoed. “Are they done yet?”

  Brandon chuckled. “I hope so. I’m ready for one—or half a dozen.”

  After removing his cap, their father rested his forearms on the back end of Kyle’s truck and studied his cargo. “You’re putting up a tree this year?”

  “It’s Christmas, isn’t it?”

  “That’s my point. Most years no one would know it, going by your house.”

  Kyle rubbed his hands. He’d washed them at the Gas-N-Go, but tree sap was one of the most difficult substances to get off. “What goes up must come down. I admit it can all seem a bit pointless to me.”

  “Scrooge,” Lourdes muttered.

  “I do believe this was my idea.” He gestured at the tree he’d gone to so much trouble to hack down and was rewarded with a saucy grin.

  “Come on in.” His father beckoned them toward the house. “Your mother will be excited you’re here.”

  “We don’t need to bother the bakers,” Kyle said. “We were just hoping to borrow some tree trimmings from the garage, if you have extra.”

  “Of course we have extra. Paige has so many Christmas decorations she doesn’t know what to do with them all. But you can’t take that stuff and go, not without saying hello to her.”

  “Then we’d better go inside and say hello.” Lourdes said that so sweetly Kyle was probably the only one who understood her motivation. She was reminding him that she wanted to meet Olivia. But he wasn’t keen on that. He’d admitted to Lourdes what he hadn’t admitted to anyone in the past six years—because he hadn’t expected the two women to ever meet.

  Problem was...he couldn’t get out of going inside, not without hurting his mother’s feelings. “Fine. Just a quick hello. We only have a second,” he said, but once they were inside, it was clear that he wasn’t going to get Lourdes out anytime soon. His stepmother recognized her—whether Olivia had anything to do with that or not, he couldn’t tell. Paige was almost beside herself with excitement even before his father could boom out her name.

  “I love your voice. You’re so talented,” she said.

  Lourdes allowed a hug, but that much enthusiasm made Kyle uncomfortable. Surely Lourdes got tired of people wanting to touch her.

  She did nothing to imply that, however. “Thank you,” she said. “You have a lovely place.”

  “It’s nothing fancy, but we like it.”

  Lourdes focused on Olivia. “And you are...”

  Kyle stifled a smile—because it was obvious to him that Lourdes was far more interested than she was letting on. “This is Brandon’s wife.”

  “Olivia.” Brandon, who’d followed them in, along with his father, added her name.

  “Good to meet you,” Olivia said.

  “Likewise,” Lourdes responded. “So...do you live close by?”

  “Not far,” Brandon replied. “Maybe five minutes.”

  Once again, Lourdes attempted to draw Olivia into conversation. “I believe I’ve met your sister.”

  Olivia glanced at Kyle. No doubt she was wondering how much Lourdes knew about their situation.

  “Noelle dropped dinner off to thank me for the water heater,” he explained.

  “Oh.” Olivia sighed. “I’m sorry. I keep telling her to quit bothering Kyle, but...”

  “It was delicious,” Lourdes said.

  Kyle thought of the odd comments Noelle had made when they were on the phone this morning but chose not to mention them. He figured it was just more of Noelle doing what Noelle did. Her emotions carried her in all kinds of different directions. She was in love with him one minute; she hated him the next.

  “Would you like a piece of fudge?” Paige asked. “It’s homemade.”

  “How can I refuse anything that’s homemade?” Lourdes said and let Paige talk her into sitting at the kitchen table and sampling one of everything.

  Lourdes seemed more comfortable as time passed, but her gaze kept drifting to Olivia, who seemed to be at least as curious about her. Whenever their eyes met, they’d both smile and shift awkwardly, and Kyle would make a renewed effort to get Lourdes out of the house. But Paige thwarted his every attempt by pressing some new treat on Lourdes. So then he’d have to wait a few minutes longer.

  Finally, he stood. “Why don’t you make a little plate for us to take home?” he suggested. “I’m afraid Lourdes is going to be sick if she eats any more right now.”

  “Great idea!” Paige exclaimed.

  While his mother bustled about the kitchen, Olivia walked over and sat next to Lourdes. “How long will you be in town?”

  “I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ve got a lot of work to do. When I finish it, I’ll go back.”

  “It’s lonely being away from home, especially during the holidays. I know I speak for Kyle’s parents when I say that we’d love to have you come over for Christmas dinner.”

  This kindness seemed to take Lourdes by surprise. Kyle had made the same offer, but that was different. This was coming from Olivia. “Thank you. I’ll definitely consider it.”

  “I hope you’ll come,” Olivia said, and then, at last, Paige was done.

  Armed with a mountain of fudge and cookies and directions on where to find the extra Christmas decorations in the garage, Kyle motioned Lourdes ahead of him.

  “Aren’t you sorry you went in now?” he murmured once they had the ornaments and garland and were in the privacy of his truck.

  Lourdes looked a bit baffled. “No. Not at all. I just wish I hadn’t liked her so much.”

  “Olivia?”

  She made a face at him. “Who else? It would be impossible not to like your mother.”

  He started the engine. “Don’t tell me my little matchmaker is feeling discouraged.”

  “A bit overwhelmed by the challenge ahead of me,”
she said. “But I’ve managed difficult feats before.”

  He pulled away from the curb. “Exactly. And you’ll do it again.”

  When she smiled, he knew she understood that he wasn’t referring to the challenges in his life.

  * * *

  “It’s gone.”

  Kyle had just wrestled the tree through the door. He’d had to cut off another two feet at the base, and the top was crammed against the ceiling, which made it look like just the midsection of a tree. But at least he’d salvaged their efforts by finally getting it into the tree stand. For the first hour, he’d thought they’d have to scrap what he’d cut down and start all over. “What’s gone?” he asked absently, brushing the pine needles from his clothes.

  “All the dishes,” Lourdes said. “Even the food.”

  Now she had his full attention, because he had no clue what she was talking about. “What dishes? What food?”

  “The meal your ex-wife brought. I planned to warm up the leftovers so we could eat before we decorate, but...there’s nothing left.”

  His eyes darted to the kitchen table, where he’d begun to stack the empty containers. They were gone, just as she’d said. “She brought four chicken breasts, and we only ate two.”

  Lourdes froze as she noticed something else. “Oh, boy...”

  Thanks to the change in her voice, Kyle was fairly certain that oh, boy wasn’t related to his accounting of the leftovers. “What is it?”

  She moved the gloves and hat she’d dropped onto the counter out of the way and handed him what she’d spotted—a note.

  “Fuck you!” it read. There was no signature.

  “That’s got to be from Noelle, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  He didn’t know anyone else who was pissed off at him. And she had a key. “Has to be,” he agreed.

  “Wow. What set her off? She was so friendly when I spoke to her.”

  Kyle continued to stare at those two ugly words and at the deep indentations of the pen that showed how angry Noelle had been when she’d written them. “I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t do anything that would warrant this.”

  “Is she angry that I’m here—staying with you? Does she think there might be something going on between us?”

  At odd moments—last night, and then while they were getting the tree, and even when they were at his folks’ house—it did feel as if there was something going on. But he couldn’t say that. If Lourdes felt the same thing, she was in denial about it. Every time they accidentally touched, or their eyes lingered on each other a second too long, she’d bring up those women she’d found on Single Central.

  “No,” he said. “She knows we’ve just met.” He remembered Noelle’s many attempts to hang out with him lately, the incessant calls, the suggestions that he drop by Sexy Sadie’s while she was at work—and then the more blatant offers that had come later. “She isn’t getting what she wants, so she’s throwing a tantrum.” He’d seen her do that before, plenty of times, hadn’t he? But they’d been married then. Or going through the divorce. This shouldn’t be happening now.

  “And what does she want?” Lourdes asked.

  “To get back together.”

  “She came out and told you that?”

  “She didn’t need to. I knew it. But yes, this morning she mentioned something about there being no need for us to grow old alone when we could have each other.”

  Lourdes looked more closely at him. “Are you sure you’re not still sleeping with her? I can’t imagine a woman doing this unless—”

  “Because you’ve never met anyone like Noelle,” he interrupted. “I haven’t touched her—despite her many offers. She asked me to come over today. I refused. That’s it. I’ve tried to let her down gently, but she makes that impossible. She pushes you until you have no choice except to be blunt.”

  “Should you be worried?”

  You don’t want me as your enemy, Kyle... He knew she had a temper, and not much of a conscience, but it was difficult to conceive of her doing anything that might seriously harm someone. He wouldn’t put it past her to do other things, pettier things. “No, not really.” He glanced around the house, wondering what else she might’ve touched. This was an obvious display of power, a way to show him he wasn’t as out of reach as he thought. “But it’s well past time to get those locks changed.”

  “Will changing the locks even do any good? You told me her uncle’s a locksmith.”

  “He’s trustworthy.” Shit, weren’t situations like this supposed to get easier with time? It’d been more than five years since they were divorced.

  But Noelle hadn’t found someone else in all that time. That was why she wouldn’t move on and forget about him. And she perceived him as having money, which she was convinced would solve all her problems.

  “She certainly knows how to kill the Christmas spirit,” Lourdes said.

  Kyle crumpled the note and threw it away. “This is nothing. Don’t let it upset you.”

  She didn’t seem capable of forgetting it, though. “Maybe we should go over to the farmhouse to sleep tonight. She doesn’t have a key to that, does she?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want to become the subject of some Dateline episode.”

  He was fairly certain she was joking, but Noelle’s sudden rage did make him uncomfortable—because it was so unprovoked, and there was nothing he could do to placate her. He wasn’t going back to her no matter what. “It’s too cold at the farmhouse, remember? We’ll be fine here.”

  Although she’d taken off his coat, and it was warm in the room, she rubbed her arms. “Spurned lovers can do some crazy things.”

  “We divorced more than five years ago. That’s got to make a difference. She can’t be as into me as she thinks she is.”

  “Maybe you’re not as easy to get over as you think you are.”

  Their eyes met in one of those moments when neither seemed capable of looking away, even though that shouldn’t be happening. “Olivia got over me without any trouble,” he said, to break it.

  She frowned at him. “She still cares about you. Most people can’t say anything nice about their past partners, but Olivia genuinely admires you and wants you to be happy. At least, I got that impression.”

  “Well, we are sort of related these days.”

  “I’m guessing she’d feel that way regardless.”

  Determined to conceal whatever sizzle he felt when he was with Lourdes, he crossed the kitchen to stare into the fridge. “I should’ve waited to piss Noelle off until we’d finished the food. The water heater should’ve been worth that much.”

  “You got a lot of groceries this morning,” she said. “I’ll throw a meal together.”

  He turned. “You can cook?”

  “Believe it or not.”

  “What are you making?”

  “How about you go ahead and put the lights on the tree and I’ll surprise you.”

  Although he felt more like calling Noelle and having it out, he agreed. Coming into his house when he wasn’t home—even if it was to get her dishes—underlined how delusional she was. It didn’t matter that they’d been married. She didn’t have, and shouldn’t have, the same kind of access to his house and belongings as she once did. What was there about “divorced” that she didn’t understand?

  “She’s so maddening,” he muttered. But Lourdes had used her smartphone to put on some Christmas music, and he could smell delicious scents wafting out of the kitchen. He didn’t see any reason he should let Noelle ruin the good time he could have with Lourdes.

  So he put his ex, and her nasty note, out of his mind.

  12

  Derrick kept texting her.

  Why aren’t you responding? What’s going on with you? Have you lost your mind
? Do you know how much money I’d be out if I passed Crystal on to someone else?

  He said plenty of other things, too, but he didn’t agree to forgo being Crystal’s manager. He was so adamant that Lourdes was being unreasonable, she was beginning to second-guess herself. Was she overreacting to the excitement a manager would naturally feel toward a promising new client? Was she letting jealousy, and her fear of failure after soaring so high, ruin the one great thing she had left—her relationship with the man she loved? Derrick often talked about how quickly some of his more successful clients turned into “divas.” He held that kind of behavior in contempt and often threw it up to her when he felt she was overstepping the bounds.

  But what she was feeling had nothing to do with being a diva. No woman would enjoy having her fiancé pay too much attention to a rival. “Whatever you do, don’t act like Miriam,” he’d say, referring to one of the worst of his early clients, one he’d frequently complained about.

  “You almost done?”

  When Kyle came into the kitchen, Lourdes shoved her phone across the counter so she couldn’t be tempted to keep looking at it and stirred the pasta sauce simmering on the stove. “Just about. You finished with the tree?”

  “I am. Come and see. It looks really good.”

  She laughed at his boyish eagerness. “I will. But first...can you grab an oven mitt and take the garlic bread out? It’ll burn if we don’t do it soon.”

  “Where’d you get garlic bread?” he asked as he nudged her aside to open the oven door.

  “I used the rest of that loaf you bought for French toast this morning and added butter and garlic.”

  “Making do, huh? I wouldn’t have expected such resourcefulness from a pampered celebrity like you.”

  He was joking. She saw the twinkle in his eye. But after what she’d just been thinking, she couldn’t help taking those words halfway seriously. Was she acting pampered, or spoiled and temperamental, with Derrick? Or, since her career had taken a turn for the worse, was she trying to make him suffer along with her? (This was one of his most recent allegations. At first, she’d found it preposterous, but she had to admit that his excitement over Crystal stung all the more because of her own situation.)