Tate Family Holidays

by Hope Ford

  Ashley, one of society’s finest, is checking everyone in. When Brent and I get to the front of the line, it all begins.

  “Well, Abby, I never would have recognized you without your boots on. What are you doing here?” she exclaims loudly, smiling ear to ear, and probably not even realizing how mean she really sounds.

  Brent stiffens beside me and starts to remark. I grab on to his hand to stop him. “Hey, Ashley, it’s under Brent Wilder.”

  At the mention of his name, Ashley straightens her back and pushes her chest out. “Of course, of course, we are so happy to have you here, Mr. Wilder. I’m Ashley Sinclair.”

  I can still see the annoyance on his face, so I step in front of him, grab the program off the table and usher him inside, muttering a ‘thanks’ to Ashley.

  When we get inside, Brent starts to speak. “I can’t believe the nerve…”

  I stop him with a hand to his chest. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

  He grips me by the shoulders. “Forget her. Let’s have a good time. The only thing getting me through this night is knowing that you’re going home with me.”

  The night flies by. We have a wonderful dinner and we dance until my feet are aching. I’ve found that I get along well with all of Brent’s colleagues and have pretty much stuck with them. A lot of them I know from growing up here and they have shown me the utmost respect, even asking me advice for housing plans and such. I walk toward the bathroom with a lighter feeling in my stomach. Maybe Brent is right. Maybe this will be okay.

  I do my business and before I come out of the stall, I hear women come in talking loudly. “I don’t know how she got him. Surely he didn’t see her in her work boots and say, “Man, I have to have that.’ They just don’t make sense.”

  Another voice agrees, “I know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in anything besides jeans and those boots. I wonder if she wear the boots in bed?”

  They both laugh and I feel my cheeks burn. Never one to back down, I walk out of the stall with my head held high. I go straight to the sink to wash my hands and both women are quiet when they see me. I throw the paper towel in the trash and start walking toward the door. I swing it open and turn around before I leave. “No, I don’t wear the boots to bed. He prefers me naked,” I tell them and let the door swing shut behind me.

  When I get back to Brent, he instantly asks me what’s wrong.

  “Nothing. Do you mind if I go home now?” I ask him.

  “Abby, you were fine when you went into the bathroom and now you’re upset. What happened?” He slides his arms around me and I stiffen.

  “I’m leaving, Brent. I’ll see you later,” I tell him and stride toward the door. I don’t even look back at him to see if he’s following me. I’ll get a cab if I have to.

  Brent

  I finally catch up with her on the sidewalk. With my hand to her back, I guide her to the car. She says nothing on the ride home and I decide to wait until I have her in my lap, in my arms to talk to her.

  When we reach her door, I start to follow her in, but she turns in the doorway with her hand on my chest, stopping me. “I need to be alone tonight.”

  “No,” I tell her and lift her up and carry her into her apartment, kicking the door shut with my shoe.

  Anger flushes her face. “You can’t just muscle your way into my apartment. I don’t want you here.”

  My jaw tightens, but I tell her firmly, “Yes. You do. We may fight, we may disagree, but every night will end the same. You in my arms.”

  Want flares in her eyes, but just as quickly it disappears. “For how long?”

  Frustrated, I stroke my hand through my hair. “What do you mean for how long? Forever.”

  She looks down at the ground. “Or until you realize how different we are. I don’t fit in with your crowd.”

  Jealousy instantly sparks inside of me when I think of all the comments my friends and colleagues made tonight. “All my friends told me how lucky I am to have you. You had them eating out of the palm of your hands. I thought I was going to have to punch someone if they asked you to dance. They loved you.”

  “Not all of them,” she mutters.

  “Are you talking about the woman at the front, or whatever upset you in the bathroom? Well, that’s on them, honey. They’re just jealous of you. Look at you. You’re gorgeous. You’re every man’s dream.”

  Slowly, she’s letting me hold on to her. I don’t know if she realizes it or not, but she’s softening to my words. When I have my arms firmly held around her and her chin is resting on my chest looking up at me, I finally tell her the one thing that I’ve wanted to tell her since the very first night. “I love you, Abby. I want you by my side forever. I want to have babies with you. You make my world perfect. And if I have to give it all up, the hotels, the businesses, whatever, to make you mine… I will.”

  She finally puts her arms around me. “I love you, too. I don’t know how, it’s so quick, but I know that I’m in love with you… but I don’t want to mess you up. I mean, you’re dating a construction worker. Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of what I do. I love creating something for people, but I don’t ever want that to reflect badly on you.”

  I smile at her. “I’m proud of you, too. And I’m fine with marrying a construction worker… as long as I can show up whenever I want to stake my claim on you.”

  “Marry?” Her eyes light up.

  “Oh, definitely,” I whisper right before I latch my lips to hers.

  Epilogue

  Three years later

  Abby

  I’m in another dress. The things I do for this man. I swore after our wedding I wouldn’t ever get into another dress, but I made an exception for today. I stand proudly next to him with our son in my arms. We’re standing in the lobby of the brand new Wilder Hotel. He did this. He inspired a whole community with this hotel. He’s resurrected and breathed life into our small town. He’s paved the way for more attractions already being built around us.

  He’s a hero to most everyone he comes across. Especially me.

  Instead of my life where I had to have complete control of every situation, I now live a life where I get to relax and live my dreams. He takes all the hard stuff off of me, never wanting me to worry. Honestly, almost all the decisions he runs by me. Even stuff that he knows the answer to. I think he just wants to keep me happy by fulfilling my need to control things.

  The one thing he did put his foot down about was working while I was pregnant. He forbade it. And after a big argument and some great make-up sex, I gave in. I knew he was right; I just didn’t want to be told what to do. Well, six weeks after Brent Jr., or BJ was we have started calling him, was born and I was given approval to go back to work, I cried the whole day.

  Brent came and picked me up from work; I’m sure my brother called him, worried about me.

  He took me home, put our baby in my arms, and I was fine. The crying stopped and I felt whole again.

  “Do you even want to go back to work?” he asked me.

  I looked down at the tiny baby in my arms and I swear he grew an inch while I had been gone. “No. Not yet.”

  He put his arms around us and held us both to his chest. “I thought you wanted to, that’s why I encouraged you, honey. But I would love for you to stay home with Brent. Whatever you need to do to be happy.”

  I remember that day like it was yesterday.

  My husband walks to the front of the gathering of people. “I want to thank you all for being here today. This couldn’t have been done without you all and I want to give you my heartfelt thanks to all the workers, their families and the community. I am excited to be a part of this community and help it grow and succeed. But most of all, I need to thank my wife, Abby Wilder. She is my everything and without her I am nothing. I love you, honey.”

  The applause breaks out and as he walks down the stage and toward me, not taking his eyes off me. People thank him and shake his hand as he passes, but he doesn’t stop unti
l he’s standing right in front of me.

  “Nice speech, Mr. Wilder.” I smile up at him.

  “Let’s get out of here.” He lifts BJ out of my arms and puts him over his shoulder. Then he grabs my hand and walks out to the car.

  “Where are we going?” I ask him.

  “Home. I’m taking you home. I missed you this morning.”

  “I’m good with that,” I tell him before reaching up to kiss him. “I love you, Brent. And I’m so proud of you.”

  “I love you too, honey.”

  THE END

  Ford

  1

  Ford

  My feet pound a steady path on the pavement. It seems that running the track at the community center is my only release these days. In the last few weeks, I’ve taken my brother’s ex fiancée on a date to get intel on her father, ticking off my whole family in the process. The very same night, I find out that my partner of ten years is a dirty detective and has been stealing drugs from the evidence room at the station.

  My heart beats faster as I pick up the pace. The kicker is, I’m the one that found him confiscating everything. I’m the one that turned him in. Even though I know what he did was wrong, I still have guilt. He has a wife and kids and I can’t help but think I could have helped him somehow. I admit there were not any clues to what was going on. But I would have gotten him help, if I’d known he was having a problem. Items were missing and there was an investigation, but no one pinned it on him. Nobody until me. I’m almost sprinting now, enough that my breath is coming out in pants. I force myself to slow down and I look around at the near empty track.

  Slowing down to a small jog, I’m about to stop and stretch when I see a woman walk out onto the course in front of me. She’s a bigger woman, but I can’t help but appreciate the sway of her wide hips as she walks briskly along the track. I slow down even more so I can stay behind her. I get closer to her and I swear that her head is bobbing to music. I see the cords hanging from her ears, her blond hair in a ponytail, swinging side to side.

  I’ve never seen her here before. I definitely would have remembered her. I try to hold myself back, but like a moth to the flame, I’m drawn to her. Her thick thighs are in yoga pants, showing off her ample curves and making my mouth water as I watch her ass jiggle.

  She moves faster, so I move faster. She slows down, I slow down. We’re in perfect sync and I forget my surroundings, because I can’t take my eyes off her. There’s something about her. Something familiar. But I know if I knew her, I would remember her.

  Ali

  Why? Why am I doing this to myself? I’m a big girl. I’ve come to terms with it and I enjoy eating too much to go on a diet. So to counteract my tendency of overeating, I walk. My friend told me the best thing to do this is interval walking. Speed it up, slow it down. So that’s what I’m doing. I’ve put on fifty pounds since high school and I’m determined not to put on any more. I pick up the pace.

  Not that I don’t have an excuse to put on some weight. I definitely eat my feelings. And these last few weeks have about done me in. My grandma passed away and has been gone a month now. She was my rock. My everything. She raised me since I was just a little girl. The news that she died hit me like a rock and now I’m here to get her house ready to put up for sale.

  I had hoped I could stay in it, but I really can’t afford it. She had taken out another mortgage to help pay for my schooling. And I’m about to graduate, but I won’t have money coming in any time soon. Which is why I’m selling my childhood home. My stomach churns just thinking about it.

  I’m on Thanksgiving break and although I had a lot of friends invite me to their houses, I knew I had to do this. So I drove the hour and a half home to get it taken care of.

  I can feel the sweat trickle down my forehead and I swipe at it before it hits my eyes. When I’m gasping for breath, I slow down abruptly to a slower walk.

  Sensing someone watching me, I look around the track but there are only a few walkers. A few that have passed me a few times now. But I still feel someone watching me. I turn behind me, gasp and start to fall to the pavement.

  Behind me, on my very heels, is Ford Tate. The Ford Tate from my high school days. He is the older brother of my friend Abby, and also the star in every dream I’ve ever had that involves me and sex.

  I know my eyes are wide as my whole body tenses up, knowing I’m about to hit the hard ground. I clench my eyes shut and wait for the impact.

  But it never comes.

  I feel strong arms go around me, pulling me up until I’m plastered to a hard chest, and my whole body is fit snug against him.

  I open my eyes. Staring back at me are Ford’s deep brown eyes and he has a big smile covering his whole face.

  2

  Ford

  I can’t believe the woman I’m lusting over is my little sister’s friend from high school. The last I heard she had moved away to college. I adjust myself so that my lower body is not pressed against her, but I hold her upper body snug against mine.

  She’s different. The last time I saw her she was thin and timid looking. Now she’s all woman. And I’m holding her curves in my hands to prove it.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her, still not letting her go.

  Her eyes widen and she struggles to get out of my arms. I hold on to her, at least to make sure she’s steady on her feet before I let her go. She pulls the ear buds out of her ears. She must have read my lips, because she responds. “Yes, uh, yes. I’m fine. Thank you for catching me. You surprised me, I didn’t realize anyone was that close behind me.”

  I smirk. Yep, I was concentrating so much on the sway of her body that I wasn’t paying attention to anything else. “Sorry, I guess I was in a zone.”

  She smiles at me and we look back at one another for a minute. She blushes and the redness of her cheeks with that smile on her face makes her even more beautiful. Shaking her head, like she’s trying to empty the thoughts, she turns to walk away.

  I have to stop her. “Little Allison, right? You’re Abby’s friend?”

  She looks like she might stumble again, but she catches herself and turns around to face me. Indifference is covering her face, and I’m wondering what I said to make that smile disappear.

  “Not that little anymore. But yes, I’m Allison.” Her hands clasp around each other in front of her and I know she’s on the defensive. Being a detective, I can read body language pretty well. Does she think I’m making fun of her size? Because I’m definitely not. She’s perfect.

  I take a step closer to her and put my arm around her and squeeze her to me. When I release her, I grab on to her hand and hold it. I know I’m shocking her, we never really had this type of relationship when we were younger, but something is making me want to have her in my arms, if nothing else, so I can have my hands on her.

  “So how have you been? What have you been up to since you left? How long are you in town?” I ask her all at once.

  She blinks, then looks down at our intertwined hands and then back up at me. “Uh, I’m good. I’ll graduate in December. I’m just here for Thanksgiving break, I’ll be leaving Sunday.”

  So she’s here for five more days. I’m already forming a plan. I want to spend some time with her while she’s here. “Are you staying with your grandma? How’s she doing?”

  She squeezes her eyes shut in pain, and when she opens them, they are filled with tears.

  “Allison? What is it? What’s wrong?” I wrap my arms around her and look down into her troubled face.

  She shakes her head side to side and sniffs. “I’m sorry. Gosh, I’m so sorry. I’m fine. Uh, Grandma passed away a few weeks ago.”

  I hug her and hold her tight against me. “Awww, baby. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  She softens against me and her arms go around my waist. We stand there on the now empty track. Holding her in my arms just feels right. She’s a perfect fit. Her vanilla scent travels up my nose and I breathe her in deeply. My hands stroke up
and down her back, reassuring her, but in a sense, reassuring me also. Moments go by, and she backs away from me. I loosen my arms, but don’t let her go. She’s embarrassed.

  Her face is a cherry red and she stutters out an apology. “I’m so sorry, Ford. I don’t normally fall apart like that. I’m sorry.”

  I lift her chin with my fingers and whisper to her, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  My eyes are locked on hers to show her how sincere I am. She finally nods at me.

  I clasp my hands together behind her back. “So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “I’ll probably just eat at home. I’ve been busy packing up everything.”

  Alarmed, I ask her, “Are you not coming home after graduation?”

  She shrugs again and then backs away from me, forcing herself out of my arms. “Uh, I don’t really know. I can’t afford the mortgage, so I have to sell it. I don’t really have it all worked out yet.”

  Ali

  I had to make myself pull away from him. When I was younger, Ford was like a hero to me. He was so handsome, popular, and cocky. Now he’s even more good-looking than I remember. Just looking at him makes my heart beat triple time. Being in his arms, well I can’t even say what that does to me.

  He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at me with a soft smile on his face. “Eat Thanksgiving with my family. And let me help you with your house.”

  I smile at him, but I know I’m going to turn him down. By the look on his face, he knows it too. “I can’t. I have so much stuff to get done. Thank you though. And I can do it by myself. I really do appreciate it though.”