Copyright © 2011 by Vanessa Gray Bartal
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Author’s Note
Savvy readers will notice this is book 3 in the series when book 2 has not yet been published. The books are written in chronological order with book 1 taking place in summer, book 2 in fall, and book 3 at Christmas. Rest assured, however, that no spoilers from book 2 are in this book—it’s meant simply to be a gentle Christmas read. Enjoy, and Merry Christmas! Vanessa.
Chapter 1
“Lacy, a package came for you.”
Her grandmother’s polite knock, plus her gentle voice filtering through the door, roused Lacy from a deep sleep, which was scandalous considering the late hour. Lacy crawled from bed and opened the door, trying hard not to look like she’d just woken up.
“Thanks, Grandma,” she said, her voice raw and scratchy from disuse. She extended her hand toward the small package, trying not to feel guilty when her grandmother looked at her in surprise. Of course there was no accusation in her beloved grandmother’s face. Even though it was after ten in the morning, she still wouldn’t chastise her oldest granddaughter. The woman was a saint, in Lacy’s opinion, which made her own behavior all the more embarrassing. Slowly but surely, she was turning into a sloth.
It had started two weeks ago when her friend, Tosh, became too busy for her and her friend, Jason, stopped calling. Suddenly sitting back, enjoying life, and licking her wounds had seemed like a good idea to Lacy. Only that had somehow morphed into staying up until the wee hours of the morning, eating popcorn, and watching infomercials about miracle hair products.
Her inertia had grown worse as Christmas approached. This was her first Christmas without Robert, the first Christmas since he’d broken their engagement and dumped her for her sister. What was so bad about reveling in a little self pity? So what if she hadn’t shaved her legs in over a week? Who got close enough to her to care? No one, that’s who, at least not lately. The only two men who had even a remote chance of getting that close to her were both nonexistent lately.
As a pastor, Tosh was having his busiest season, and it was making him cranky. Lacy had never seen him so stressed. She had no idea how Christmas parties could make someone grumpy, but then she’d never had to attend thirteen in a row. Unlike Tosh who was doing just that and then some.
Jason’s absence was unexplained, but they didn’t really keep tabs on each other the way she and Tosh did. Her relationship with Jason was more complex and fraught with more emotional minefields. She was insanely attracted to him, which was good enough reason to stay away from him, only that didn’t seem to be possible. They were like two magnets that kept flipping back and forth, alternately attracting and repelling each other. Apparently lately their poles were the same and they were keeping their distance. Lacy tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, but she still felt the sting of his rejection, even if it was unspoken.
She sat on the floor in front of her bed, turning over the package in her hand. It was a plain cardboard box, but something rattled inside. When she tore open the outside packaging, she saw a neatly wrapped little present with an attached note that read, “Do not open until Christmas.”
“Pfft,” Lacy said out loud. “Fat chance.” She ripped open the smaller box and stared dumbfounded at its contents, blinking the sleep from her eyes to see it better. It was a beautiful gold filigree locket. Turning it over, she read the inscription on the back. “I love you.”
Amazed, she sat on the floor, staring at it and turning it over in her fingers, looking for clues. Who would have sent this and why now? Why not give it to her in person, unless it was someone who couldn’t say the words out loud?
That tantalizing thought left three possibilities: Either it was Tosh, whose desire to take things to the next level wasn’t actually a secret. Or it was Jason, who would probably rather be dropped into boiling acid rather than ever tell a woman he loved her. And then there was the third option: Lacy’s grandfather, Tom Middleton. New to their family and still finding his way, it would be like him to send a sentimental gift without actually telling her anything at all. He was her biological grandfather, but she hadn’t known about him until recently. They were a lot alike, she and her grandfather; sentimental words didn’t come easily.
Only one other man had ever given Lacy jewelry, and she was certain this wasn’t from him. Her ex-fiancé, Robert, had given her an engagement ring, but before that he had given her something else, something more meaningful, something she had kept despite their breakup.
On the day he told her he was dumping her for her sister, Riley, she had ripped off her engagement ring, shoved it into his chest, and told him she never wanted to see him again. Then she had gone back to her apartment, rifled through her jewelry box, and dug out the other piece of jewelry he’d given her, hugging it tightly to her chest.
Setting aside the locket, she stood and walked to her drawer, rifling through until she reached the small box filled with the personal items she kept hidden from the world. In it was a card from Tosh, something he’d sent because he knew it would make her laugh, along with a clipped picture of Jason in his uniform she had cut from the paper. There was the bulletin from Barbara Blake’s funeral service, and there was the ring from Robert.
It wasn’t valuable, at least in terms of dollars. He had bought it from a street vendor in Manhattan on a whim, but he had presented it to her with a flourish, telling her he loved her and getting down on one knee. They had only been dating for a couple of months, and Lacy had been swept away by the romance of it all. She had worn the ring every day until he replaced it with an engagement ring.
She pulled the ring out now, studying it for a few beats before clenching it in her hand and pressing her closed fist to her forehead. How could she have been so wrong about Robert? How could she have been so stupid to turn over her heart to someone who had hurt her so cruelly? How could she ever fully trust anyone again?
Unclenching her fist, she dropped the ring back in the box and closed the drawer. She had to get a grip on herself. Somehow, she had to get out of this downward spiral, and especially before Christmas arrived. Christmas was a notoriously depressing day for the lovelorn. No need to add more fuel to the fire by letting herself go and adding low self-esteem into the mix.
First thing first, she needed to get herself whipped back into shape. The best way to do that was to go for a run, but she groaned aloud just thinking the word. If there was anything she hated more than running, it was running when it was cold and wet outside. But this was her penance for eating four bags of microwave popcorn in the last week. They were the mini bags, but still. Gross.
She suited up, attempting to pile on the layers without adding so many that she would overheat and die along the road somewhere. How to dress for a run was the type of thing that athletic people inherently knew. Lacy, on the other hand, was not athletic. She was and had always been a geek. Her days of high school band had taught her which instruments couldn’t survive the cold or the wet, but nothing about football. The game was still a mystery to her, as was running for pleasure. She ran because, if she didn’t, she would get fat.
With that depressing thought in mind, she left the house and pounded the pavement for thirty minutes, alternately sweating and freezing as she vowed to figure out the proper mix of clothes for a winter run. Her ears, nose, fingers, and toes were numb, but her midsection was soaked with great rivulets of sweat. For that reason, she couldn’t stop until she got home for fear that she would freeze wherever she landed. What if she acci
dentally backed up against a metal pole or something? The fire department might have to get her unstuck.
She finally arrived home, stumbling in the front door and collapsing on the entry rug.
“What on earth was that?” her grandmother’s voice drifted from the kitchen.
“Lacy went for a run,” her grandfather replied.
“Oh,” her grandma said, as if the sound of collapse had been inevitable the moment Lacy set out. “Lacy, dear, are you okay? We’re getting ready to bake soon. We waited for you.”
Lacy tried to call that she was fine, but the sound came out a garbled mass of unintelligible sounds. When she realized she was actually slobbering on the rug, drool running from one side of her face like a sleeping Saint Bernard, she pulled herself up on her hands and knees and shakily attained a standing position.
“Shower,” she called weakly in the direction of the kitchen. She wasn’t sure if they heard her pathetic whimper, but they must have because they once again told her they would wait for her.
When it took two razors to finally eradicate the thick growth of stubble on her legs, Lacy was properly disgusted with herself. How had she sunk so low in just two weeks? Just because Tosh and Jason were too busy to pay attention to her didn’t mean she shouldn’t pay attention to herself. Never again, she vowed as she did a deep conditioning treatment on her hair and applied an in-shower face mask. Had she been brushing her teeth before she crawled into bed at night? She couldn’t remember, and she shuddered at the thought that maybe she hadn’t. She was seriously done with the self-pity routine. No matter what, she would find a distraction for herself before she sank again.
Chapter 2
Luckily when she exited her bedroom, her grandparents had just such a distraction waiting for her.
“Grandma, are you sure you bought enough butter?” Lacy asked as she surveyed the counter.
“Oh, I don’t know,” her grandmother said, her tone uncertain.
“I’m teasing you,” Lacy said, giving her grandma’s shoulders a bracing squeeze. “I think eight pounds is plenty.”
“I just want everything to be perfect,” Lucinda said. “This is your mother’s first time meeting Tom since he and I became, ah, friends, I want her to approve of him. Even more so because he’s her father. But you know your mother. She’s a bit…”
“Crazy?” Lacy supplied.
“Lacy,” her grandfather said disapprovingly.
“You haven’t spent much time with her,” Lacy said. “You’ll see. Back me up here, Grandma.”
“I was going to say high strung,” her grandmother said. “But crazy works pretty well, too.”
Lacy laughed. “Grandma!” It was the first time she had ever heard her grandmother say something even remotely bad about anyone, and her own daughter, no less.
“Don’t tell her I said that,” Lucinda said, laughing. “It’s just that Frannie and I are very different people. I love her more than anything on this earth, but sometimes she can be a bit difficult.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Grandma,” Lacy said. Her mother was one of the reasons Lacy had learned to live in her head, preferring to make up stories instead of listening to her mother’s latest histrionic diatribe. “That’s why she and Riley get along; two peas in a pod.”
“I hope we can all get along during this visit,” her grandfather interjected, clearly disturbed by the conversation.
“I do, too, and I’m sure we will,” Lacy said with more confidence than she felt. This was his first Christmas spent with his daughter, even though she didn’t know she was his daughter. Her grandparents had decided not to tell their daughter that she was adopted, preferring not to dislodge her carefully planned world. Lacy felt a little nervous, too. She had never kept such a monumental secret from anyone before, and certainly not her own mother. How was she supposed to deal with the fact that she knew her parent was adopted when her mother didn’t? She still hadn’t told her parents about the inheritance from Barbara Blake because it would raise too many questions, questions she had no answer to.
The one bright spot in the family visit, at least for Lacy, was that her little sister, Riley, wasn’t coming. Lacy didn’t delude herself into thinking Riley had suddenly developed a conscience and didn’t want to hurt Lacy with her presence. No, she knew the reason Riley wasn’t coming home was because she’d received a better offer, a fact confirmed when Lacy learned Riley and Robert had been invited to spend Christmas in the Hamptons with Robert’s rich aunt.
Lacy slipped on an apron, turning her back so her grandfather could tie it for her, and then they set to work. Baking with her grandmother was a yearly tradition Lacy treasured, and she was happy with the addition of her grandfather this year. After so many years as a bachelor, he knew his way around the kitchen pretty well, and the three of them enjoyed spending time together—a win-win situation all around.
They were elbow deep in cookie dough when Lacy’s phone rang, a ringtone she recognized. After a quick swipe of her hands on a dishrag, she picked it up and pushed the button.
“Dost mine ears deceive me, or is this my long lost friend, Tosh?”
Tosh sighed. “Don’t start, Lacy. Are you free tonight? I need to be with someone who doesn’t smell like Soft Musk and arthritis cream.”
“I’m free,” Lacy said, too eager to get out to try and come back with a witty reply.
“Wear something fancy,” Tosh commanded.
“Got it,” she said.
“And make out with me when I take you home,” he added hastily.
“What?” she asked.
“You were being so agreeable; I thought it was worth a try. I’ll pick you up at six.”
They disconnected and Lacy returned to baking, happy that her plans for the evening would include something more than rifling through the freezer in search of some ice cream she may have overlooked on previous raids.
With three of them working, baking only took a few hours. Lacy washed up and spent a long time arranging her hair and applying her makeup, realizing as she did so how much she had missed the process. Since it had been so long since she dressed up, and since Tosh had told her to dress fancy, she raided the back of her closet, pulling out her little red dress.
As a rule, strawberry blonds weren’t supposed to wear red, unless it was that perfect and elusive shade of red, the one that complimented hair and skin instead of making one look like a clown. Lacy had found just such a dress in a Manhattan boutique and had snatched it up, despite the fact that it took her two months to pay for it. The dress was worth it, though it was different than her usual preference. Not that it was revealing, but it was definitely less conservative than her other dresses. As such, she waited to put it on until her grandparents were out of the house.
Six o’clock came and went with no sign of Tosh. He called a few minutes after six to let Lacy know he was running late. After apologizing, he asked her to be ready to go as soon as he arrived. She hated to cover her seldom-worn dress before Tosh had the chance to see it, but it would make for a more dramatic reveal when they arrived wherever they were going.
His knock was abrupt, but when Lacy opened the door, he rushed inside and swept her up into a tight hug. “If I have to eat one more gingerbread man, I promise I’m going to lose it,” he said by way of a greeting.
Lacy laughed and surreptitiously set aside the plate of gingerbread cookies she had baked for him that afternoon.
He kissed her cheek. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she said, following him to his car when he grasped her hand. After he politely held the door for her, she began to feel a rush of excitement about their possible destination. Before the holiday, she had dropped some not-so-subtle hints about wanting to go to The Nutcracker. When they pulled into the local union hall, however, she tried to tamp down her disappointment. The ballet definitely wasn’t being held here. Still, Lacy didn’t begin to be alarmed until they stepped into the hall and Tosh took his coat off.
“
You’re wearing your clerical collar,” she observed. “Why are you wearing your clerical collar?”
“Because I’m a minister?” he tried.
“No, I mean why are you wearing your clerical collar here?”
“They asked me to give the invocation,” he said.
“They who? Invocation for what? What is this?”
“The Fraternal Order of Police Christmas banquet,” he said, turning away from her to scan the crowd.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Lacy said, closing her eyes in the hopes that when she opened them she might realize she was dreaming.
“What’s the problem?” he asked. “Afraid you’ll run into Jason?”
His resentful tone wasn’t lost on her, but she ignored him. She hadn’t considered Jason, though he was definitely another factor in her desire to flee. “The problem is you said to dress fancy, and we obviously have different definitions of that word.”
“Why? What are you wearing?” He turned to survey her with a combination of amusement and curiosity.
“This coat for the rest of the night,” she said, tugging her coat tighter around her middle.
“Oh, no, you have to let me see.” Tosh reached for her, tugging on her coat.
“Tosh, stop it,” she said, trying to dodge his long and insistent arms.
“Just one peek,” Tosh said. Somehow in the struggle she ended up bent over, Tosh behind her with both his arms wrapped around her.
“Hello, Red.”
I hate my life, Lacy thought before she reluctantly turned to look at the newcomer. “Hello, Jason,” she replied. “How are you?”
“Good. You getting the Heimlich or something?” His gaze shifted from her to Tosh, narrowing. Tosh returned his narrowed gaze but wisely remained silent for once.
“Jason, I think they’re getting ready to start. Are you coming?” the pretty blond came up beside him and rested her hand on his forearm.
Christmas Steele Page 1
