“It’s great to see you, Frankie,” Garrick said, pulling apart from his fiancé. “Val, why don’t you take Frankie through to see my parents while I put her things down?”
She pecked him on the cheek. “Great idea.”
Garrick took my bag from me, and Val slipped out of her coat, revealing a sweater similar to Garrick’s. Hers was white and had the words “Ho, ho, ho!” emblazoned all across the front of it in green and red.
She threaded her arm through mine, leading me further into the house. I was on high alert, aware that we could turn a corner at any moment and come face to face with Levi.
We made it to the kitchen without running into him and I couldn’t tell whether to feel relieved or not. The smell of butter basted turkey and thyme blasted away all thoughts of Levi. My stomach grumbled.
Gerhart was at the kitchen island chopping potatoes, and a tall, skinny woman with gray hair was over at the stove stirring a big vat of gravy. Gerhart’s head popped up when he saw me and he grinned.
“Frankie! So glad you could make it!”
“Thank you for having me,” I said.
“We’re delighted, dear,” said the woman, turning from the stove and coming to stand in front of me. She extended a hand. “I’m Molly, Garrick and Levi’s mother.”
“And my beautiful wife!” Gerhart interjected.
Molly rolled her eyes, but her smile grew all the same. I shook her hand.
“Where’s your Christmas sweater?” Gerhart asked.
For the first time, I noticed that both he and Molly were wearing sweaters similar to Garrick and Val’s. Gerhart’s featured a portly snowman stretched across his big belly, with buttons for its eyes and mouth. Molly’s was a little more reserved, an assortment of snowflake and tree patterns in a festive mix of white and red.
“She doesn’t have one,” Val answered for me.
“Doesn’t have one?” Gerhart seemed genuinely affronted by this. “But it’s Christmas!”
“Relax, darling,” Molly said, placing a hand on his arm. “Frankie can borrow one of Levi’s.” She looked to Val. “Would you go and fetch one from his room for her?”
“Right away.”
Val left, and Molly turned her smile to me. “We make him leave them here,” she explained. “Otherwise he’d just throw them out.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Molly walked back to the stove and Gerhart waved me over. “You want a beer?”
“I would love one, thank you.”
He walked to the massive stainless steel refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Black Mountain Lager, popping off the cap and passing it to me. He picked up the knife and went back to chopping.
“You know,” I said, “if you guys are this crazy about Christmas sweaters, you should think about getting some Black Mountain ones made.”
I was only trying to make conversation, but I immediately wished I hadn’t spoken at all. Gerhart dropped the knife to the board, staring distantly toward the wall, then screamed at the top of his lungs. “Garrick!”
What did I do? Was I about to get kicked out of the house? I shot a desperate glance at Molly, but she was still stirring on the stove and may as well have not noticed her husband’s outburst.
Pounding footsteps heralded Garrick’s arrival. He skidded into the kitchen, panting. “What is it?”
Val was close on his heels, clutching a green and red patterned sweater. The response time in this family was admirable.
“Christmas sweaters,” Gerhart said, eyes wide. “Black Mountain Christmas sweaters.”
Garrick didn’t even skip a beat. His face tore into a grin. “We could use them in contests!”
Gerhart nodded enthusiastically. “Or put them in one out of every dozen cases of the Christmas brew!”
CRACK!
Molly smacked her wooden spoon on the counter. I was the only one who jumped.
Molly’s cheeks creased into a frown. “No brewery talk on Christmas!”
Gerhart went over and gently pried the spoon from her hand, kissing her forehead. “Of course dear, I’m sorry.”
Molly relaxed into a smile. Val and Garrick, noting my traumatized expression, led me into the adjacent living room.
“We do things a little differently here,” Garrick said.
Val laughed. “Isn’t it great?” She plucked the beer from my hand and passed me the sweater instead.
I pulled off my cardigan and wiggled into the sweater, which was like a tent on me. It went down to mid-thigh and I could’ve worn it as a dress and still been presentable. Levi had probably only worn it once or twice, but his warm, smoky smell wrapped around me and I indulged in a sniff.
Val handed me my beer and led me to an oversized wing-backed recliner that faced the couch. A robust tree glittered with ornaments in the far corner, presents piled high beneath. I sank into the cracked leather and took my first drink of beer.
Val and Garrick cuddled up to each other on the couch opposite me, looking as cute as they always did. Val pushed back Garrick’s mop of curls and kissed his forehead, and he leaned into the touch with closed eyes and a blissful smile. They were in a world of their own, and I curled my feet up and basked in the atmosphere of love and holiday cheer.
Garrick looked up at me a moment later. “Sorry. You must be bored out of your head.” He looked at his watch. “Levi should be back soon. He had some work to do at the office but promised Mom he would be back before dinner.”
“Great.” I drank more of my beer. “Don’t worry about me, though. Just pretend I’m not here.”
Garrick grinned wolfishly. “I highly doubt you would like it if we did.”
Val smacked his arm.
A loud bang echoed down the hall and footsteps snapped against the floorboards somewhere behind me. Garrick and Val both looked up and smiled.
“In the nick of time, I should think,” came Levi’s baritone. “Please tell me Mom’s drunk.”
“She’s pretending she only has one son,” Val replied. “And she’s already started giving away your things.” She winked at me.
“I bet Dad didn’t even notice I was gone.” Levi strode into the room, finally coming into view. A smile stretched his handsome face and he playfully wedged himself between Val and Garrick. He wore his usual slim-fitting slacks, but instead of a dress shirt, he wore a sweater even more ridiculous than any of the ones I’d seen so far. Front and center was a fully decorated Christmas tree, with jingling bells, tinsel, and tiny baubles.
Levi finally noticed there was another person in the room and his smile dropped.
“Frankie...” His gaze fell on the sweater I was half-wearing and half using as a blanket.
“I kidnapped her,” Val explained. “I couldn’t leave her alone on Christmas.”
Levi’s forehead creased. “No, of course not.”
“Gerhart insisted we clothe her suitably for the occasion,” she added.
I didn’t know what I was expecting, but his reaction made me shift uncomfortably in my seat. He didn’t look happy to see me in the slightest, which made the butterflies wheeling around my ribcage even more unwelcome.
“Levi! Is that you?” Molly called from the kitchen.
“It’s jolly Saint Nick!” Garrick called back.
“Both of you, come help us in the kitchen!” she cried.
Garrick and Levi stood, Levi pulling his collar comically and making Val laugh.
“Can you get me another beer?” Val asked, passing Garrick her empty bottle.
He leaned down and kissed her. “Of course.”
Levi held his hand out for my empty bottle, and I passed it to him, neither of us saying anything. He and Garrick left the room.
Val immediately vaulted over to sit next to me, shoving me into the far corner of the chair.
“What the hell did you do to Levi in the mountains?” she asked.
My eyes bulged. “What do you-you know what I did,” I stuttered.
�
�No, not that.” She shook her head. “Did you see the way he was acting? This whole week he’s been like that. He’s been, dare I say it, nice to me?”
“He did look pretty chummy.”
She blew air through her teeth. “You’re a miracle worker. I’m going to name a star after you.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Levi came back into the room, passing Val and I each a beer before disappearing again. Hers was the same as before, but mine was different. I frowned at the label, but Val didn’t notice, already yammering away about her New Year’s plans.
I knew I shouldn’t overthink it, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Levi had brought me a Christmas brew because he remembered our first conversation when I said I looked forward to it every year.
Surely not, I decided. And I drank.
Chapter 21
Levi
“You.” Mom thrust a wooden spoon into my hand. “You’re on stir duty. If there are any lumps in that gravy, you’re going to get it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I took up my station while Mom doled out the rest of the orders, then moved to the side as Garrick came over to fulfill his duty of basting the turkey.
“Don’t be so upset with him, Molly,” Dad said. He was deep frying potatoes at the other side of the kitchen, a dish that he refused to go without at Christmas but Mom complained about every year. She insisted he didn’t need both mashed and fried potatoes. He insisted he did. Much as Mom could be a hard ass, she knew when to pick her battles.
“What is my one rule?” Mom asked.
“No brewery talk on Christmas,” Garrick and I answered in unison.
Mom snapped her fingers, and I resumed stirring.
“Technically I didn’t talk to anyone about the brewery,” I defended. “You and Dad were napping, and Garrick and Val were off doing...whatever it is they were doing. I didn’t think anyone would miss me if I slipped off for a while to get some work done.”
I chanced a look behind me and saw my mom’s features had softened. “Maybe it’s time you found yourself a girl, Levi. You can’t just throw yourself into your work every time you’re lonely.”
“Hey, being alone is not the same as being lonely.”
Garrick snickered. I glared at him.
“Your mother’s got a point, you know.” Dad came up behind Mom and snaked his arms around her waist. “If it weren’t for your mother, I would have worked myself into the ground just like your grandfather did. And he nearly drove Black Mountain into ruin. There needs to be balance.”
Mom leaned her head back against Dad’s shoulder and smiled, kissing him on the cheek. Then, without even looking at me, she snapped her fingers. “Stir.”
I resumed stirring again and turned back to the stove. Garrick finished basting the turkey and stood beside me, inhaling. “Damn I love gravy.”
“We know. That’s why Mom cooks so much of it.” I shouldered him away from the stove. “I guess it’s useful when we’ve got unexpected guests though.”
Garrick shrugged. “Guess so.”
I wanted to ask why Frankie was there but couldn’t make it seem like I was too interested. Garrick suspected that something had happened between Frankie and me on Mount Hood, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction so hadn’t told him anything.
“So does Frankie not have her own family to spend Christmas with?” I asked, stirring casually.
Garrick leaned against the counter next to me and took a draw of his beer. “Her family’s all in New York, but she couldn’t afford to go this year.”
“Couldn’t afford to go? She seems like she does okay for herself.”
Garrick nodded. “She does, but her dad had surgery a couple of weeks ago, and since he and her mom were going to have to take out a loan to cover it, Frankie stepped in and paid for it.”
I paused. Frankie never mentioned her dad’s surgery when we were on Mount Hood. She didn’t mention not going home for Christmas, either. If Val hadn’t brought her here today, would I have ever found out? Not that it was any of my business. I felt bad for her—which was likely exactly why she didn’t want me to know.
“That Frankie girl,” said my dad. “She’s a real doll. Your mother and I were just saying earlier how much Val has brightened up since she started working with Frankie. She’s got a real shine to her now.”
“I agree.” Garrick pulled plates down from the cupboard and passed them over to my mom. “It’s amazing what a good friend can do.”
“They’re not friends. It’s Frankie’s job, and she just happens to be good at it.”
Dad and Garrick both frowned at me. Mom, predictably, was too absorbed in setting the table to notice the conversation.
“You’re too harsh on her,” Garrick said. “I figured after your weekend getaway you would realize that there’s more to her than you think.”
I had come to such a conclusion, but it didn’t seem like such a bad thing to remind people that Frankie was only going to be in our lives for so long. She seemed very fond of Valerie, but once the wedding was over, she would move on to the next. None of us would see her again.
Mom shuffled in beside me and took the spoon from my hand. “Why don’t you go see if the girls need another drink?”
“I just got them one.”
“You know how fast Valerie drinks.” She pushed me away. “Go on.”
I sighed and left the kitchen. The sound of laughter hit me like a wall the second I stepped into the living room and I stopped when Frankie and Val came into view. They had moved to the couch. Spread open on Val’s lap was one of our old photo albums and Val was pointing at a picture of Garrick wearing my dad’s shoes and vest. He couldn’t have been older than five at the time. The two of them were busting their sides over it.
Hell, maybe they were friends. Maybe Frankie wouldn’t disappear once the wedding was over. I hoped for Val that was the case. Months ago, when Val’s parents dropped on her that they were going away for the holidays without her, she seemed excited about the opportunity to spend Christmas with our family. But when she and Garrick showed up last night, I could tell she was sad. Nothing any of us did had worked as well to cheer her up as whatever Frankie was doing now.
The girls finally noticed my presence and Frankie’s smile fell away. The atmosphere altered, grew chillier. A pang of something like sadness hit me in the chest.
“My mom sent me in here to check if you guys need another drink,” I explained.
Valerie shook her bottle and then her head. “I’m good.”
“Me too,” said Frankie.
“Call if you need anything.” I turned away, but instead of heading back to the kitchen I turned right down the hall and made my way to the stairs.
Something was bothering me. It was the same thing that had been bothering me for the past week, but I’d been doing a good job of ignoring it until now. Or, at least, a better job. Now that Frankie was here, in my childhood home, I knew it would be impossible for me not to think about her.
She wanted us to forget that Mount Hood ever happened, but I didn’t see how that was possible. If I could forget it, I would—because it was damned inconvenient thinking about Frankie as much as I did.
But what could I do? She’d left an indelible impression on me. Her plump ass, those gorgeous tits, the way she moaned in that rasping, sultry voice of hers. I was constantly horny, but the idea of fucking anybody else just didn’t appeal. I wanted her. I thought all I needed was time to get over it, but it had been a week and still no progress. Worse, now Val had shoved the temptation right in front of me.
I mounted the stairs and followed the corridor to my bedroom, which had remained unchanged since high school. I’d had horrible taste back then. Football posters lined the back wall, and the shelves were cluttered with knickknacks and dog-eared novels. The closet door hung open from Valerie’s visit earlier. Just thinking about Frankie in that ridiculous sweater made me hard and it had nothing to do with the holiday spirit
. It was my sweater, and it looked like sin on her. I couldn’t tell whether I loved or hated my dad for making her wear it.
I fished my phone out of my pocket and collapsed onto the bed, still disheveled from my rough night’s sleep the night before. I knew I didn’t have long before Mom sent someone to look for me, particularly since dinner was nearly ready, but I had one thing I needed to do before I had a few beers and started to enjoy the evening.
I just hoped Frankie wouldn’t take it the wrong way.
Chapter 22
Frankie
My sides ached with laughter and I doubled over, desperately trying to gulp down a breath.
“It wasn’t even his suitcase!” Garrick finished in a voice squeaky with laughter. “He nearly got in a fistfight over the damn thing, and then his comes around on the belt. You should have seen the look on his face.”
I wiped a tear from my eye and looked over at Levi, who was smiling good-naturedly even though we were laughing at his expense.
“He always puts a neon tag on his bags now,” Gerhart added. “The brighter, the better.”
“Tell us another,” begged Val. “You’re the best at telling stories.”
I had to agree. The story of Levi inadvertently trying to steal the suitcase of an old Floridian man was funny, but the way Garrick told it took it up a few levels to hilarious. I’d been laughing so much over dinner that I’d barely finished half of my food, whereas Gerhart was already on his second plate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun.
Actually, I could. A week ago, careening down a hill in a laundry basket with the wind whipping snow in my face.
“We should keep the score even,” Levi said, leaning toward Val. “Tell something embarrassing about Garrick for once.”
Garrick stuck his nose in the air. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“I beg to differ.”
“I challenge you to think of even one instance where I’ve ended up with egg on my face.”
Bridesmaid for Hire Page 13
