While her mother had been more interested in making sure Lacy looked presentable and watching Riley cheer, her father had actually immersed himself in the game, becoming a big fan of their high school football team.
“Jason Cantor?” her father said.
“Dad, your incredulous tone stings, it really does,” Lacy said.
“It’s just that you’ve never really gravitated toward the athletic type. You’ve always seemed more interested in the artsy types.”
“Yes, well, Jason and I are just friends.”
“Jason Cantor, and he’s a cop now. Wow.”
“If you want, I can get his autograph,” Lacy offered.
Her dad laughed and cleared their plates from the table. “All right, I’ll simmer down my enthusiasm. It’s just that he always reminded me a bit of myself when I was his age. Did I ever tell you I played quarterback?”
“You did?” Lacy asked, feigning innocence. “If only you had mentioned that before. I don’t suppose Mom was a cheerleader, was she?”
“Ah, the merits of a sarcastic daughter. I had almost forgotten what it was like to live with one. Thanks for the reminder.” He ruffled her hair. “Ready to get this show on the road?”
“Let me call Travis and make sure we’re a go,” Lacy said. She dialed Travis, who told her the key had been obtained with the help of about half the force who was curious as to what Lacy was planning.
“We’re all hoping it’s something bad,” he said. “Just so you know. Like a huge prank or something.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not really the pranking sort. It’s just a Christmas delivery that I’d rather not do in person. Thanks for this, Travis. Do you want your usual coffee order?”
“Yes, please,” he said, sounding enthusiastic. “I’m on hour fourteen of sixteen. Coffee makes everything that I had to go through for this key worthwhile.”
Lacy smiled as she tucked her phone in her pocket, grabbing her purse and linking her arm with her father on the way out of the house. Her father drove, which was good considering she still didn’t own a car. First they went to pick up Travis’s coffee, and then they drove to the jail. Her dad scanned the place through narrowed eyes.
“You come here often?” he asked.
“More often than I would like, yes,” she said.
“I’m coming with you,” he said, hopping out of the car and quickly catching up with her. She introduced her father to Travis as she gave him his coffee and Christmas present.
“Aw, Lacy, you didn’t have to,” Travis said, though his overjoyed smile told him he was glad she had. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“Sure you did, Travis.” She held up the key. “Thank you so much. I owe you one.”
“You owe me more than that,” he said.
She laughed. “True. It doesn’t bode well for me that you’re keeping track. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Travis called as Lacy and her father walked back outside. She had just finished tucking Jason’s key in her pants pocket when she heard him calling her name.
“Lacy!”
She and her father paused, turning toward the door in time to see Jason sprinting through. “What are you doing here?” he asked, stopping short in front of her. “Don’t tell me someone else you know is in jail.”
“I was bringing Travis a Christmas present,” Lacy hedged. “Jason, this is my dad, Clint Steele. Dad, you remember Jason Cantor.” Her smile was teasing, but she didn’t mention her father’s previous adoration of Jason.
Clint threw his daughter a knowing smile as he held out his hand to Jason. “It’s nice to meet you, Jason. I don’t believe we ever had the privilege when you were in high school.”
“No, sir, your daughter was too stuck up to talk to me then. It’s only lately that she’s lowered her standards enough to mingle with jocks and other riffraff.”
“You’re working all day, right?” Lacy asked, ignoring Jason’s teasing and her father’s amused chuckle.
“Twelve hours,” Jason replied. “But I told you I would try to stop by your party tonight if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She was more concerned that he would stop by his own house. “Is it busy today? Have there been a lot of calls?”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he searched her face. “What’s up, Red? You’re acting weird.”
“Even for me,” she finished for him.
“Especially for you,” he said.
“Not a thing is up, Jason. Don’t be so suspicious on Christmas. And be careful, please.” She lightly touched the button on his pocket, remembering he had once told her holidays were dangerous because so many people used the day as an excuse to drink as much as possible.
“I’ll be careful if you’ll stay out of trouble,” Jason promised.
“What do you mean? It’s Christmas Eve. What trouble could I find?”
“Let’s not tempt fate by asking that question, okay, Lacy?” Jason said as her father chuckled again. “It was good to meet you, Mr. Steele.”
“Call me Clint,” her father commanded. “And it was nice to meet you, too, Jason. I hope you can make it for the party tonight.”
“So do I,” Jason said. “See you, Red.” He reached out to give her waist a squeeze, and then turned and jogged back into the building.
“So that’s what you call friendship,” her father said when Jason was gone. “Things are beginning to make a lot more sense now.”
“Dad,” Lacy intoned, feeling like a teenager again.
“What, Lacy? I’m your dad, I’m not blind. What’s really going on between you two?”
“Nothing,” Lacy said. “I promise. We’re friends, and we have a slight attraction to each other.”
“Like a moth to a flame,” her father said. “I’m not sure either of you even knew I was standing there even though I was doing my best to put out the overprotective father vibe.”
“Dad,” Lacy said again, laughing. “Stop it. He and I are friends.”
“Are you friends like this with the other one? What’s his name, your grandma’s pastor?”
“Tosh and I are very good friends,” Lacy said. “He’s probably the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Her dad shook his head. “Here you are in our tiny hometown, getting caught up in love triangles and murders. I think I would prefer you to move back to Manhattan. It was safer and less exciting.”
“Dad,” she said, shoving lightly at his arm. He caught her around the neck in a loose headlock and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Are you happy here, little girl?” he asked when they were in the car, his tone turning serious.
“I…” Her first instinct had been to say no. How could she be happy in her crummy little hometown? But then she realized she was happy. She had her grandparents, whom she adored, as well as Tosh and Jason who kept things interesting. “I am,” she said with confidence, surprised by how much she meant the words.
“Good. Stay that way. And stay away from boys.”
“Even Jason?” Lacy said. “It sounds like he’s your dream guy.”
Her father shook his head. “I told your mother I wanted sons,” he muttered. “The woman never listens to me.”
Lacy laughed and spent the rest of the afternoon laughing as she and her dad bought the necessary supplies before breaking into Jason’s house.
“Are you sure a single man lives here?” her dad asked when they walked inside the sparkling clean house.
“I know, it’s disconcerting, isn’t it?” Lacy agreed.
“I can tell you for sure that my house wouldn’t look like this if I didn’t have your mom to nag me about cleaning up.”
Lacy nodded, but the words were a reminder that not everything in her world was perfect. Something was up between her parents; she could feel it. But it was Christmas Eve, and she didn’t want to dwell on it today. Instead they set up the tree she’d bought, sticking it in a lone corner of the room. Lacy unfurled the tree skir
t and they strung lights and ornaments. When that was finished, she set a few presents under the tree, knowing it would look lonely without something underneath. Knowing also that Jason would be uncomfortable if she bought him too much, she instead made the tree his big present, bought him some stocking stuffers, and set out some toys to be donated to a charity for kids whose parents were in prison.
“There,” she said, stepping back to look at the tree in satisfaction.
“Looks good,” her father said, resting his arm on her shoulders as they admired their handiwork. She decided to leave the tree plugged in, knowing at some point Jason would drive by his house and notice the lights. They were lucky he hadn’t driven by already and noticed the strange car parked in his drive.
“We should get out of here,” Lacy said. “He could come home at any moment, and I wasn’t quite kidding about the gun.” They hurriedly cleaned up and hustled outside, feeling very cloak and dagger at having pulled off their surprise.
“Why did we do that?” her father asked as they were driving away.
“What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t he have a tree already?”
“Jason doesn’t have the best relationship with his parents. He doesn’t talk about it, but I think holidays are painful for him. He lost a brother when he was little. It’s sad; he’s basically all alone in the world.”
“Not so alone. He has you, and you really care about him, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do,” Lacy said resignedly. At the very least they were friends, but friendship wouldn’t quite explain why she couldn’t seem to get him off her mind.
“Lacy Cantor,” her father teased.
“Dad,” she said, responding with appropriate embarrassment.
“You’re right,” her father said. “I suppose I should reserve judgment until I meet the other one. Tish, was it?”
“Tosh,” Lacy said, knowing very well that her father remembered his name. “So much for remaining neutral.”
“I’m Switzerland,” her father said. “Whoever you choose to be with is your decision. Just so long as he played quarterback at some point in his life, I couldn’t care less who you marry. Of course, pastors have high divorce rates.”
“Dad,” Lacy exclaimed. “Tosh is great, and you’re going to love him. If you don’t, I’ll buy you breakfast the day after Christmas.”
“Deal,” her father said, holding out his hand to shake on it. They shook, and he let her go, pointing to a restaurant on his left. “There’s where I want to go for my breakfast.”
“So much for neutrality,” she muttered, turning to stare out her window with a sigh.
Chapter 12
The house didn’t feel very festive when Lacy and her father arrived home. Her mother was in the living room, flipping through a magazine with such ferocity that she risked ripping out the pages.
“Mom,” Lacy said tentatively, “everything okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be okay? Just because a stranger is in the kitchen, working with my mother like he owns the place. It’s fine. Everything is just fine.”
Lacy sat and pried the magazine from her mother’s clutch. Capturing both her hands, she clasped them tightly in hers, waiting to speak until she had her mother’s full attention. “Mom, it’s not just Grandma who loves Mr. Middleton. I love him, too. You can’t imagine how much he’s come to mean to me the last few months. He’s not only loving and caring, but he’s incredibly wise. I’ve come to feel that’s he’s a surrogate grandfather, which is nice because I miss Grandpa a lot. I’m not saying he has to take the place of your dad, but he’s important to me, and he’s important to Grandma. That alone should be reason for you to try and make peace with his presence. He’s here to stay, and you know he’s a good man. Think about it—when was the last time you saw Grandma this happy?”
Her mother took a couple of deep breaths, her nostrils flaring as she tried to get wild emotions under control. “I miss my dad,” she said, sounding more like a little girl than a grown woman.
“I know,” Lacy said, urging her mother into her embrace. Not that she had to do a lot of urging. Her mother collapsed against her and wept, long and loud. “Let’s set the table,” Lacy suggested after her mother cried herself out.
Frannie nodded, sniffling.
Lacy, feeling like she had just taken the first step toward parenting her parent, was glad for the distraction of setting the table. They worked in silence, and when her grandparents emerged from the kitchen, they found their subdued daughter working in studied silence. They sent a questioning look to Lacy who gave them a helpless shrug in return.
Gladys and Sean arrived as soon as the table was set. Sean was wearing a suit and red bow tie, one which he explained he had received in show choir, and Lacy smiled, adjusting his tie with a pat.
“I think you look very handsome. In fact, you’ve inspired me to dress up, too.” She departed to change clothes and freshen up, adding some makeup to the bare bones routine she had performed on her face earlier that morning. There was a green velvet dress she occasionally pulled out at Christmas. She didn’t often wear it because with her red hair she sometimes felt like a Christmas tree. But what better time to look like a tree than Christmas?
Knowing they had a few minutes until supper, she also took her hair out of its perfunctory bun, brushed it, and used her large iron to give it some loose curls before misting it with hairspray. After giving herself an approving nod in the mirror, she left her bathroom, just in time to answer the door and greet Tosh.
He whistled in appreciation. “You look fancy, though I’m a little disappointed not to see that slinky red number again.”
“There are children present,” she reminded him, jerking her head in the direction of Sean.
“Right, children,” Tosh said. He glanced at Sean and smiled. “That kid looks almost exactly like me when I was his age. Is that bowtie from show choir?”
Lacy nodded and she and Tosh shared a laugh. “He’s like our lovechild, if we had one, which we could if you wanted. Just letting you know I’m open to the possibility. Also, I brought eggnog.” He held a milky-white jug aloft. Noting Lacy’s grimace, he hastened to add, “I didn’t make it. One of my parishioners made it for me, and I’ll never drink it.”
“Does anyone actually drink eggnog?” Lacy said, sticking out her tongue. “I can’t think of anything worse than raw eggs and nutmeg.”
Tosh shrugged. “It’s a senior citizen thing. Every party I’ve gone to this season has served it, and they always run out. The sweet lady who bestowed this gallon on me made it seem like a great honor. But I’m with you. Gross.” He bent and kissed her cheek, breezing by her to take the eggnog to the kitchen.
She trotted after him, realizing she would need to make the introductions to her parents. They encountered her father first.
“Dad, this is Tosh. Tosh, my father, Clint Steele.”
“Mr. Steele,” Tosh said, offering his hand for a shake. “Lacy tells me you’re a golfer. We have a family friend who is a member at Pine Valley. We’ll have to arrange a day to play.”
Lacy wasn’t a fan of golf, but even she had heard of Pine Valley, the ultra-exclusive dream club in New Jersey. Predictably, her father’s eyes were glazed over with ecstasy at the mention of the place.
“Dad, are you in there? Do you need a drool cloth?”
“I’m buying you breakfast,” her father replied absently, and Lacy smiled. Tosh had apparently passed muster.
“I’ll explain later,” Lacy told a clueless Tosh, leading him past her still starry-eyed father to the kitchen and her mother. “Mom, this is Tosh,” Lacy said, presenting Tosh with a flourish of her hand.
Her mother turned with a speculative smile, sizing up Tosh from head to toe. “Mrs. Steele,” Tosh exclaimed upon first sight of Lacy’s mother. “You look exactly like…” He broke off and Lacy knew he had been about to say “your mother,” referring to Barbara Blake. “Your daughter,” Tosh hastily
added. “The resemblance is amazing.” He looked back and forth between Lacy and Frannie with a smile.
Lacy’s mother beamed. “Why, thank you, dear. Isn’t it amazing that we got two redheads in a row when we’re the only ones in our family for generations?”
“Amazing,” Tosh said. Now that he had regained his footing after his earlier stumble, he was unflappable. They would have continued to make small talk, but Lacy’s grandmother interrupted with an exclamation of delight.
“Oh, eggnog, Pastor Underhill, you shouldn’t have. That’s my favorite!”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Craig,” Tosh said, his earnest tone conveying his sincerity. “If there’s any left over, please keep it.”
“Are you sure?” Lucinda asked.
“Positive,” Tosh replied.
“Such a sweet boy,” Lucinda muttered, turning to place the jug on the counter. She rooted in the cupboard and poured a generous serving of the drink, offering it up to anyone in the room. When everyone refused, she drank it herself.
Lacy squeezed Tosh’s bicep, smiling up at him. He definitely had her family’s approval and, if his smug grin was any indication, he knew it. “Come and meet Sean,” she suggested, tugging his sleeve to lead him back to the family room.
Sean sat in a chair, sullenly listening as Gladys and Mr. Middleton discussed friends who had died that year. His cheerful bowtie was a direct contrast to his glum countenance, but he cheered considerably when Lacy and Tosh entered the room.
“Sean, this is my friend, Tosh.”
“I’ve noticed you from the platform,” Tosh said. “I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to say hello before now. This is my busy season. Lacy tells me you like video games.”
Sean relaxed and leaned forward as the conversation moved to familiar territory. There was another knock on the door, and Lacy’s heart began to flutter in nervous anticipation. What would be Jason’s reaction to his gift? By now he had to have seen it. In his down time, he often drove by his house or hers to check on things.
Tentatively, she pulled open the door and saw him towering in the entryway, his black uniform making him look larger and more menacing. His features were carefully schooled into a placid expression, so she had no idea what he was thinking.
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