White hot jealousy sliced through Lacy’s midsection. With maximum effort, she kept her expression perfectly neutral, even when Jason scanned her face, checking for she knew not what.
“Are you going to take your coat off and stay a while?” Jason asked. “It’s warm in here.”
“Yes, I think I will,” she announced, throwing off her coat with a slight flourish as Tosh reached for it, catching it before it could fall to the ground.
There was a slight pause as the assembled group took in her dress and Lacy tried not to feel self-conscious. Maybe she was overdressed, but she looked good.
“Oh, wow,” Tosh said, breaking the awkward silence. Jason didn’t say anything, but his lips pressed together in a thin line and he cleared his throat.
“Jason,” his date tried again. “Our seats.”
Jason gave her a nod. “See you, Lacy,” he said. Spinning, he followed his date to their seats.
“Where are our seats?” Lacy asked.
“On the stage,” Tosh said.
Lacy groaned. “I’m so glad that on the one night I look like I could jump from a giant birthday cake, I’m in a room filled with testosterone-oozing police officers, and sitting on stage, no less. What was I thinking?”
Tosh rested his arm on her shoulders, ushering her toward the stage. “You were thinking that you look gorgeous and you’re classy enough to look elegant in anything.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You look beautiful, Lacy. Stop worrying.” He paused. “Although maybe you should drape your coat over your legs when we’re on stage. I wouldn’t want you to accidentally flash anyone.”
Lacy groaned again and they took their seats. Tosh stood to give the opening remarks, as well as the prayer, but Lacy felt like everyone was looking at her instead. She wasn’t sure it was her imagination when Travis caught her eye and mouthed, “You look hot,” before fanning his face with his hand. It was a relief when the meal was served and people began to focus on their food.
As she nervously picked at her food, Lacy allowed her eyes to wander, knowing they would eventually settle on Jason and his date. Jason was looking at her or, more specifically, her knee where Tosh’s hand rested. His gaze roamed to her face and their eyes locked before his date leaned over and whispered something in his ear, snagging his attention.
Who was she? She knew Jason dated, but she had never before come face to face with any of his “friends.” Was this girl something more? Was she the reason Jason hadn’t called in a couple of weeks? The thought brought more pain than Lacy was willing to admit.
Tosh gave her knee a squeeze. “How’s the chicken?”
“Tastes like chicken,” she said, holding out a bite on her fork for him to taste. “How’s the beef?”
“Tastes like chicken,” he replied, reciprocating a bite for her.
She grimaced. The beef did taste like chicken somehow. “Why didn’t you tell me where we were going tonight?” she asked.
“Lacy, I’ve been swamped. I barely know where I am. I check my phone and show up where it tells me each day.”
“Tosh,” she pressed.
He sighed. “Fine. I was afraid if I told you, you wouldn’t want to come with me, and I needed a date.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to come with you?”
“Because he was going to be here, and you get weird whenever his name is mentioned.”
“Weird how?” she asked uncomfortably.
“Weird like you won’t take off your coat for me, but you’ll take it off for him.”
How could she explain to Tosh her mixed up reactions to him and Jason when she didn’t understand them herself? “Sometimes I feel like I’m competing with him,” she said at last. “I don’t feel that way with you, like I have to one-up you all the time. Our relationship is comfortable.”
“Like an old pair of slippers,” Tosh said disparagingly.
“Like a good friendship,” Lacy countered.
“That’s almost as bad,” he said.
“He and I are friends too,” she said.
“For now,” he added.
“Tosh, I’m not…”
“I know,” he interrupted. “You’re not ready; you’re not over Robert.”
“I’m over Robert,” she said tightly. “I’m not over what he did to me.”
Tosh took a deep breath and held it. “Christmas is the time for forgiveness and rebirth, Lacy.”
“I thought you promised not to pressure me about it, Tosh,” Lacy said.
“No pressure, just a reminder.”
“My mother is coming. Trust me when I tell you that I’ll have all the reminders I need.”
“Am I going to get to meet your parents?” he asked.
“Of course you will,” she assured him.
That thought cheered him until a new thought occurred. “Are you going to introduce him?” They both looked at Jason who turned his gaze sharply from Lacy.
“They already know him. We grew up together, remember?”
“That’s not what I meant. Are you going to introduce him?”
“He and I haven’t talked in a couple of weeks,” Lacy said. “I suppose if we ran into him, I would do the polite thing and introduce my parents. But it’s not something I’m planning on. Remember not to mention anything to my mom,” she said.
“You mean about how she’s adopted, Mr. Middleton is her real father, her real mother was murdered, and you’re a millionaire now? That stuff?”
“Yes, Tosh, that stuff.”
“I’m a pastor. My lips are sealed. Unless you’d prefer otherwise.” He made kissy lips at her.
She rolled her eyes and shoved at his bicep.
“Someday, Lacy, you’re going to regret rejecting me so often,” Tosh said.
“But not today,” Lacy said, laughing at his outraged expression. He would have retaliated, but a comedian took the stage then and began his routine.
Chapter 3
The next morning, Lacy forced herself to rise early, just as she had forced herself to avoid the television and popcorn the night before.
There was more baking to be done with her grandparents and her parents were due to arrive later, but that wasn’t why Lacy rolled out of bed. She was committed to pulling herself out of her funk. For her that meant keeping on schedule. Over the last few months since she quit her job in Manhattan, she had become too used to keeping odd hours. She had read somewhere that circadian rhythms could affect mood, and she was beginning to believe it was true because she felt a little blue.
She actually felt worse than she had yesterday before Tosh called, before he took her to the police banquet, before she saw Jason and his stupid date. But that couldn’t be the cause of her distress. No, her ill humor was because of too many late nights; it had to be. She and Jason were friends, and that was all.
Baking with her grandparents worked to pull her out of her bad mood. They always had fun together, and she was glad she was over the age where she had to pretend to prefer to be somewhere else. She had always loved her grandma, always enjoyed spending time with her, but it hadn’t exactly been the popular thing to own up to when she was in high school. Now it didn’t matter if it was cool or not and, better still, Lacy didn’t care. Adulthood came with a lot of responsibility, but also a lot of freedom.
They were laughing hard over something her grandmother said, deep laughter--the kind where they were bent over at the waist and leaning on the counter--when her parents let themselves in.
“Well, this is a scene,” her mother said and it was as if she sucked all the fun from the atmosphere, leaving an awkwardness vacuum in its wake.
“Frannie,” Lucinda said, bustling forward to give her daughter a hug. Lacy moved protectively closer to her grandfather before remembering she was also supposed to hug her mother and father. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Mr. Middleton and went forward to give her mother a hug. Her father set down his bags and opened his arms, and she released her mother to hug her father.
“Hi
, little girl,” he whispered.
“Hi, Dad,” she replied, giving him an extra tight squeeze. On the rare occasions when her grandmother hadn’t been able to provide solace, Lacy had turned to her father, finding him a ready and willing comfort for her troubles.
“Mr. Middleton,” Fran said coolly, looking her former principal up and down and probably trying to figure out why he was wearing an apron.
Lucinda stood looking confusedly back and forth between her boyfriend and daughter. At last she left Fran and went to stand beside Mr. Middleton. “Frannie, you remember Mr. Middleton. Tom,” she added, sounding nervous.
It was an odd moment of twisted reality where the parent was now the kid, nervously introducing her new love interest to a child who had somehow become the one who bestowed or withheld approval. And if the look on her face was any indication, Lacy’s mother was definitely of a mind to withhold approval.
“Mr. Middleton,” she said coolly, though she politely extended her hand.
“Frannie,” Mr. Middleton said, shaking the proffered hand.
“I prefer Fran,” she replied, quickly withdrawing her hand.
“Since when?” Lacy interjected. “Mom, everyone calls you Frannie.”
“Well I prefer Fran, Lacy,” her mother said irritably, shooting her a look. “And when is the last time you had your hair trimmed? I can see the split ends from here. Have you been running? Because I know the way your grandmother feeds you, and if you don’t watch it, you’re going to balloon up. You know weight problems run in our family.” She shot a significant look at Lucinda who was pleasantly plump.
It was all Lacy could do to bite her tongue. Her biological grandmother had been thinner than any of them. “I think Grandma is perfect,” Lacy announced. “And I like my body just fine, too, Mom.”
“It’s fine for now, but you’re young and your metabolism is high. Wait until you get to be my age and it’s a daily fight to keep the weight off.”
With Lacy’s penchant for sweets, it was already a daily battle to keep the weight off, but she saw no reason to inform her mother of that. Her mother really was a loving and good person most of the time. But she was high strung with an incredibly low tolerance for stress. Any change in location or routine brought out her worst side. In retrospect, her grandparents were probably wise not to tell her about the adoption. Though Lacy deeply wanted for her grandfather to know his only daughter and vice versa, she didn’t believe her mother could handle the information.
Holidays had been notoriously bad in their household, which was why Lacy’s grandmother handled most of them. Nothing seemed to be able to ruffle Lucinda Craig, though her daughter was about to test that hypothesis. Lacy could tell her grandma felt caught in the middle, not wanting to upset her only child while not wanting to hurt her boyfriend--and her daughter’s biological father.
“How’s the weather down in Florida, Clint?” Mr. Middleton asked her father, wisely diverting the conversation to the most rational member of Lacy’s family.
“It’s hot, Mr. Middleton,” her father said.
“Please call me Tom. High school was over a long time ago.”
“Tom,” her father repeated with a dutiful smile and Lacy knew that his acceptance of the situation was now complete. If only her mother would cooperate so easily. She was so chilly and unbending Lacy felt the need to grab a sweater just from being near her.
“Everything is on track for the holiday party, Mom,” Lacy added cheerfully, hoping to divert her mother’s attention to a more pleasant topic. “We’ve all been baking like mad. Grandma has been a task mistress.” She smiled at her grandmother to let her know she was teasing. Her grandmother smiled back, but it looked strained.
“The holiday party,” her mother repeated. “I was hoping that could just be for family this year.”
“But we always invite friends,” Lacy protested, probably sounding like a pouting child. Her mother often had that effect on her.
“What’s wrong with just family this year?” her mother asked, shooting a not-so-subtle look at Mr. Middleton.
“Mom, Gladys and her grandson have already been invited. They don’t have anywhere else to go. And I was hoping to invite Tosh.”
“Tosh?” her mother’s ears perked up as they always did when Lacy mentioned a man. “Who is Tosh?”
“He’s our pastor,” Lucinda volunteered. “A remarkably nice young man, and so handsome.”
“Really?” Frannie said, shooting Lacy a speculative look. “Why haven’t you mentioned him before, Lacy?”
“I thought I had. But we’re just friends, Mom. You’ll like him.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” her mother replied. “But I don’t know why you insist on calling everyone a friend. What’s wrong with dating?”
“I’m just not ready to date yet, Mom,” Lacy said, uncomfortable with the shift in conversation.
“Why not?” her mother asked.
“Because that area is still a little painful for me,” Lacy said, her eyes darting around the room, looking for escape.
“Why?” Frannie pressed.
Lacy sighed. Obviously she was going to have to spell it out. “Because my fiancé dumped me for my sister and it hurt. A lot.”
Her mother waved her hand dismissively in front of her face. “Oh. That. But, honey, obviously you can see that Robert and Riley are better suited for each other. You and Robert were never a good fit.”
Lacy’s jaw dropped. Was her mother really excusing what had happened?
“Can I help you carry your bags, Clint?” Mr. Middleton interjected. He stepped forward and laid a hand on Lacy’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Lacy wasn’t sure if it was meant to be comforting or restraining, but she decided to take it as a comforting gesture.
“Sure,” Clint replied, relieved to have found an escape from the tension in the house. “Want to come, Frannie? You left your purse in the car.”
“All right,” Frannie replied, turning to follow her husband back outside.
Lacy remained standing in the center of the kitchen, feeling shell-shocked and overwhelmed. “Grandma, do we have any ice cream?” she asked.
“No, but I think I’m going to make a prune cake,” her grandmother replied, sounding as dismal as Lacy felt.
“I’ll help,” Lacy volunteered. “It’ll go faster.” With that, they turned their attention to culinary matters and began assembling the cake.
Chapter 4
“Really, mother, was prune cake necessary with eight dozen cookies?” Frannie asked as the family sat down to supper.
“The cookies are for the holiday party, Mom,” Lacy said.
“Ugh. I can feel myself getting fatter by the second,” Frannie said.
“I think you’re perfect, Frannie,” her husband added.
Lacy’s mother rolled her eyes, but didn’t comment further, much to Lacy’s relief. Maybe it was the stubborn streak in her, but when her mother got on her about her diet, it only made her want to eat more. She had always used food as an escape, and when she was a teenager she had wanted to escape her mother and sister and their constant drama. That was probably why she had been such a chubby teenager. College had been much calmer, and the weight had dropped easily. Since Robert’s abandonment and the subsequent turmoil in Lacy’s life, the battle of the bulge had become an issue once again. Now with her mother here and in such a bad mood, it was all Lacy could do not to pick up a fork and begin shoveling warm prune cake straight from the pan.
She needed to get a breather from the house or she would once again end up on the couch at three in the morning, trying to decide if the absence of PABA was a good enough reason to spend a hundred dollars on shampoo. That was why, when her grandmother hinted that they might need more confectioners sugar to finish icing the cookies, Lacy practically vaulted over the counter in her enthusiasm to volunteer for a grocery run.
“We can get it tomorrow, dear,” Lucinda said, eyeing Lacy with concern as she rubbed her shin, the one s
he had bashed as she was jumping for her purse.
“No, Grandma, really, I’m happy to go. Is there anything else we need? Something from the next state, perhaps? I would be happy to drive wherever you need.”
Her grandmother gave her a sympathetic smile and loving pat on the shoulder. “I think the sugar will be enough, but take your time. Maybe you could see if Pastor Underhill is available for a coffee.”
“That would be great, but this is Tosh’s busy season. He has another party tonight. I’ll get the sugar, and maybe I’ll get some coffee on my own.”
“Whatever you need, dear,” Lucinda said. With a sigh, she turned toward the counter and stared helplessly at the cookies. Mr. Middleton had gone home, probably thinking it would help ease the tension in the house. Lacy hated that he no longer felt welcome here. She had come to dearly love him, and she knew her grandmother already missed him; they had been inseparable the last few months. How ironic that the thing that should cause a wedge between them now was their daughter.
“Mom will come around, Grandma,” Lacy said, hoping she sounded convincing.
“Of course she will,” Lucinda replied, sounding equally unconvincing.
Lacy gave her a hug from behind, kissing her cheek. Lucinda smiled and rested her head against Lacy’s for a few beats. “Want to take the car?” her grandmother offered.
“Thanks, Grandma, but I’ll walk. I had two pieces of prune cake,” she added miserably, doing a mental calorie calculation.
“Lacy, don’t let Frannie get you down about your weight. You’re perfect,” her grandmother said. “You eat as much cake as you want.”
Lacy laughed. “I’m not sure my figure would remain perfect if I ate as much cake as I want, but thanks for the vote of confidence, Grandma.” She waved and left the house, breathing in the crisp winter air. It was cold, wet, and dreary, but she really did need the exercise, and the store wasn’t that far away—one of the best things about living in a small town. With every step, she felt her tension draining away. She could survive her parents’ visit. The key would be getting a daily break. Of course, getting a daily break would be easier if she had a legitimate reason to leave. With Tosh otherwise engaged, errands were her only excuse, and there were only so many times she could go to the store before her mother became suspicious.
Christmas Steele Page 2
