Unwrapped (The Unspoken Series)

by M. C. Decker

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t have any cars available today,” she replied.

  “Nothing?” I questioned again. “I really don’t have a preference. I would take an Astro Van if that’s all you have.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I really wish I could help you. You can check with the other counters, but I overheard someone say just a bit ago that everyone else was sold out as well.”

  “OK, can I leave you with my cell phone number in case anything becomes available?”

  I quickly jotted down my name and number and slid it across the cool, laminate countertop before stepping away.

  “If anything becomes available, I’ll be sure to give you a call, Mr. Davis. And, Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Vanessa” I grumbled, finally taking a moment to look up at her nametag. I felt bad for being such a scrooge, but in that moment all I was concerned about was making it home to my wife and children on Christmas.

  After checking with five companies, I quickly learned that Vanessa was unfortunately correct. Each rental car company was booked solid for the next week. Not only were my chances of getting a flight out of this place slim, but driving wouldn’t be an option either. As I began to walk back to the ticket counter, I heard a male voice approach me from behind.

  “Excuse me, sir. I couldn’t help but overhear your predicament,” he said.

  “I’m actually on my way to southern Pennsylvania and have a car reserved. I’d be happy to take you as far as I can where you might be able to catch a bus or train.”

  I chuckled to myself as the man spoke. He shared an uncanny resemblance to the late actor John Candy. I couldn’t help but see the irony in this situation. This man was offering me a ride similar to the circumstance in that damn movie Home Alone that Brooke had made me watch several times.

  “Does that sound like a plan?” he asked again, interrupting me from my thoughts.

  “Um, sure, that would be very helpful,” I replied. “Has anyone ever told you . . .”

  “That I look like John Candy?” he said with a deep belly laugh. “Yes, I’ve heard it a time or two. I’m sure you’re thinking I’m either the weirdo from Planes, Trains and Automobiles, or the jazz band player from Home Alone, right? Come to think of it they were both pretty quirky.”

  “It’s funny you mention Home Alone,” I responded. “My wife will never believe me when I tell her.”

  BROOKE

  Dinner went off without a hitch, thanks in large part to Cassidy’s honey glazed ham, au gratin potatoes and green bean casserole. By the time we’d taken my turkey out of the oven, it looked similar to the overcooked bird from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, and let’s not even discuss the burnt stuffing and runny mashed potatoes. I was starting to think I should sign up for Worst Cooks in America and take pointers from Rachael Ray.

  Rich’s family left shortly after dinner, even passing on Cassidy’s dessert, in order to make it to Connor’s parent’s house to exchange gifts. I’d taken the girls upstairs for their baths as Cass put the finishing touches on the figgy pudding and Dad had been suckered into playing trains with Brendan in his bedroom.

  “Can you grab another bib from the laundry room and bring it up here,” I yelled to Cass from the top of the stairs, as I tried to console a very gassy Alyssa. “I don’t know what her deal is lately. She just keeps spitting everything up.”

  “Oooooh, I have an even better idea. Let’s put her in the bib I just brought her with the blinking Rudolph nose. How fucking adorable is this shit?” Cass said, as she walked into the twin’s nursery.

  “Seriously? You know once these two can start repeating you then you’ll need to knock that off, or Rich is gonna have your head on a platter. He thinks we’re raising two proper princesses.”

  “Of course he does,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “We still can’t get Brendan to stop saying ‘shit.’ Everywhere we go it’s shit this and shit that. Last week, Rich asked him what he wanted for Christmas and his answer—shit,” I responded, shrugging my shoulders in defeat.

  Cass burst into laughter. “How did it take you an entire week to tell me that story? That fucking shit is priceless,” she said, tears running down her cheeks. “Seriously, I die. I. Can’t. Even. Breathe. You quite possibly have the coolest kid on the planet.”

  “What was that, Mommy?” Kaitlyn said, walking into the nursery at just the right time.

  “Nothing, princess. Just talking to Aunt Brookie. Why don’t you go play with Brendan and Grandpa David,” Cass suggested.

  “They are still playing with those silly trains. I want to play with my new Barbie. Can we invite Maddy to come over and play with me?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “I don’t know, honey. I think Maddy had plans with her daddy and brother tonight—besides, it’s getting pretty late. I bet we can see them soon, though,” Cass responded. “Why don’t you go change into your jammies and pick out a book. You don’t want to stay up too late, or Santa won’t be able to stop here to deliver your presents.”

  “Are you sure Santa will find us here, Mommy? When I sent him my Christmas letter, I sent it with our address. How will he know that we are staying at Aunt Brookie and Uncle Rich’s tonight?”

  “Santa knows everything, baby. He’ll find us here,” Cass reassured her daughter.

  “Pinky promise,” Kaitlyn requested.

  “Pinky promise,” Cass said, holding out her pinky for Kaitlyn to latch onto.

  Once we’d gotten the kids all tucked into bed for the night, and Dad had retreated to the guest bedroom, Cass and I began wrapping gifts and stuffing stockings.

  “I am so behind this year. I should’ve had this done weeks ago,” I admitted. “I guess I should just be thankful I got all my shopping done.”

  “No worries, Brooke. I’m here to help. We’ll get this all done and ready before morning.”

  Nearly four hours, ten tape dispensers and six Elsa dolls later, we had everything wrapped and ready to go underneath the tree.

  “If I even see another piece of Olaf wrapping paper again, I may scream,” I joked. “I think I gave myself a damn papercut.”

  “I’d say you two went a bit overboard on the gifts. You do realize that the twins can’t even walk yet, right? They’re just going to sit there like a sack of potatoes and stare into space as you open their gifts for them.”

  “Maybe so, but I wanted to make their first Christmas something special. Besides, like you have room to talk. I bet your trunk is stuffed with Kaitlyn’s presents ‘from Santa,’” I said, using air-quotes.

  “Well, of course it is, but in my defense, at least she will remember Christmas,” she said, rolling her eyes at me.

  “Whatever, help me get these gifts under the tree and get the powdered sugar out for the reindeer hoofs,” I said.

  “Reindeer hoofs? You’ve lost your ever loving mind. What happened to the standard milk and cookies?”

  “Oh, Brendan already set that out for Santa along with some carrots for Rudolph, but we need to eat those and leave a sugary hoof trail behind.”

  “Whatever you say, but I call dibs on the Snickerdoodles,” Cass said, grinning.

  “Brooke, wake up, baby. I’m home,” Rich said, pulling me from my deep slumber. “I finally caught a flight out of Pittsburgh. I shouldn’t even have left you all this week. Please tell me you forgive me.”

  I pulled my hair back, sat up and propped myself against the flannel-covered pillows. It was the voice that I’d craved for the last week. I smiled as I realized he’d come home wearing the elf hat that I’d bought him while we were reconciling in Dublin two years before.

  “Rich? Is it really you? Am I dreaming again? I’ve been known to dream about you—a lot.” I asked, making sure he wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

  “It’s really me, Brooke. You aren’t dreaming,” he said, reassuringly.

  “I’m so relieved that you made it home before morning,” I whispered. “How did you get here so
quickly?”

  “We’ll talk about my travels in the morning, sweets. Right now I just want to make love to my wife.”

  I could pick up the distinct scent of peppermint on his breath. “Mmmmm . . . Have you been eating a candy cane, you smell delicious,” I groaned. “I need to taste you now. Kiss me, please.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he said, as he gripped the back of my neck, pulling me in for a deep, sensual kiss. My mouth tingled from the cool sensation left behind from the candy cane.

  “I have an extra one in my pocket, you know,” he said suggestively, while reaching for the hem of my plaid, flannel nightshirt, pulling it over my head.

  My bare breasts sprang free and my nipples immediately hardened from the cool air. A hiss erupted from Rich’s lips as he propped himself on his elbows, looking down at me with intense adoration gleaming in his eyes.

  “No panties? That’s my girl,” Rich said.

  Nodding at his approval, I reminded him about the peppermint candy, “Oh yeah? And, what were you thinking of doing with that extra candy cane, Mr. Davis?”

  “I was thinking I would get it a little wet,” he said, pulling back the wrapper and swirling the tip around his mouth. “And, then I would get you a little sticky—starting here,” he said, swirling the tip of the candy cane around each nipple.

  I arched my back and took in a deep breath as Rich lapped each tit with his tongue, licking off the sweet candy flavor.

  “Then I plan on tracing it down your stomach until I stop at my favorite little clit,” he nearly growled while taking the peppermint stick and following the same path he’d just described, stopping to trace the outlines of the few stretch marks left by the twins.

  “These are my favorite beauty marks. These lines represent my two most precious gifts,” he said, as he licked the trail left by the candy cane. Rich used the candy cane to circle my clit, working it into a frenzy. He stopped to lick my juices from it and then used his mouth to suck on the already sensitive spot. The cool contact of his mouth made me scream and lifted me from the bed. My toes curled as I began to ride out the most intense orgasm.

  Just as I was coming down from my high, I heard a soft voice in the distance. “Mommy, Mommy, has Santa come yet? Is it time to open presents?”

  “Rich, Brendan can’t see us,” I shouted, pulling my flannel sheet over my heaving chest. I opened my eyes and looked down, realizing I was still dressed in my Christmas nightshirt. And, the spot to my right was just as cold and empty as it had been when I drifted to sleep.

  “Brendan, you need to go back to sleep. We can’t open gifts until the sun comes up, OK? We need to wait for your Daddy,” I whispered. “Go back to bed, please.”

  “OK, I love you, Mommy.”

  “I love you, too, buddy.”

  “Shit! I really need to stop it with these dreams. I need to go see a doctor about this and get some sleeping pills, or something. It was so real; I swear I could even taste the peppermint on my lips,” I mumbled to myself, as I drifted off again.

  RICH

  I woke up startled and looked around trying to gain a bearing on my surroundings. “Why the fuck am I in the back of a conversion van?” I asked myself.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” a strange man’s voice responded from the front seat.

  Oh my god. I’ve been abducted and I’m going to die on Christmas. I’m never going to see Brooke and the kids again, I thought to myself.

  “We’re nearly to Pittsburgh. I’ll drop you off at the Amtrak station. Hopefully they’ll have a train departing in your direction.”

  Then it dawned on me . . . I wasn’t being abducted, but was hitching a ride with the John Candy look-alike from the airport in D.C.

  “Thank you. I really do appreciate you doing this for me. Sorry I snoozed off on you. I guess I’m not much of a travel companion,” I joked.

  “No worries, man. I just hope you make it home to your family on time.”

  “Speaking of which, do you know what time it is? It seems as if my phone’s battery has gone dead.”

  “It’s just about seven.”

  Fuck, I hadn’t talked to Brooke since the airport yesterday afternoon. I’m sure she’s worried sick.

  “Would you mind plugging this into the cigarette lighter? I need to get in touch with my wife. She must be beside herself with worry right now.”

  The moment I had power return to my phone, I noticed the seven missed calls, five voice messages and thirty-three text messages.

  Without reading or listening to any of the messages, I quickly dialed Brooke’s number. The phone rang only once before I heard her voice on the other end.

  “Rich? Rich, please tell me it’s you. Please tell me you’re OK,” she nearly begged.

  “Calm down, baby. It’s me. I’m so sorry I didn’t call you back yesterday. I finally got on the road and it completely slipped my mind. I fell asleep and then the battery on my phone died without me even realizing it. I’m so sorry I worried you,” I apologized.

  “Oh my god. Thank god, you’re OK. It’s just—I just had memories, that’s all.”

  “Is that him?” I heard Cass question on the other end. “Tell Dick Davis that he’s going to get an earful from me when he finally gets his ass home.”

  “Did you hear her?” Brooke giggled.

  “I did and tell her that I deserve it. Have you guys opened presents yet? I can’t believe I’m missing Christmas.”

  “We’re actually opening them right now. Why don’t you hang up and I’ll FaceTime you.”

  “That sounds perfect.” I said, ending the call.

  Just a few seconds later, I saw my son’s face appear on my iPhone.

  “Daddy, Daddy, look at the twain that Santa brought me!” Brendan shouted in excitement. “Wow, that’s pretty awesome, buddy. Daddy is trying really hard to get home so he can play trains with you. What else did Santa bring you?”

  As Brendan began answering my question, I saw Brooke come up behind him with my baby girls in her arms. She sat cross-legged on the floor behind Brendan.

  “Hi, my beautiful angels. Did they attempt to open anything, or did they just chill like the cute, little adorable blobs that they are?” I laughed.

  “Mmmmm, I think Mikayla made one swipe at the paper. Kaity and Brendan were great helpers though. I think they’ve ripped through all of the paper like pros. Not gonna lie, your gifts may be all open by the time you get home,” she said, scrunching her nose.

  “No worries, babe. As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

  “Where are you anyways? Because it looks like you’re in the backseat of a kidnapper’s van,” she said, raising her brow.

  I chuckled before responding, “I’m in an old conversion van. A nice man offered to give me a lift from D.C. to Pittsburgh. He’s taking me to the train station. We should be arriving in about ten minutes. Hopefully I can catch a train back to Michigan.”

  “So, I probably won’t be seeing you today then, huh,” she said with letdown in her voice.

  “I’m going to try as hard as I can, babe. You know I’d do anything to be there with you four. I can’t believe I’m missing the twins’ first Christmas. This really does break my heart.”

  “I know it does. There will be other Christmases, though,” she said, trying to smile.

  “We’re at the train station now. I promise I’ll keep you posted when I find something. Give everyone big hugs from me. I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she said, ending the call.

  We arrived at the Amtrak station, in the morning, shortly before eight. I immediately grabbed my stuff, thanked “John” as I’d been calling him and headed toward the ticketing counter.

  “Thanks for your help, man. You really have been a lifesaver. I would probably still be stuck at Dulles right now. And, I’m such an ass because I don’t think I actually got your name.”

  “It’s Nick Santos. And, it really wasn’t a problem. Just pay it forwa
rd someday,” he said, extending his hand for a shake.

  I looked down momentarily, grabbing a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet to help cover the cost of gas, and when I looked up Nick was gone. I tried calling for him, but it was a lost cause in the bustling train station.

  “It was like he just vanished,” I mumbled to myself, as a cold burst of air sent a shiver up my spine. “Come to think of it, not only did Nick resemble John Candy, but he also looked a bit like . . . nah, it can’t be, or can it? Maybe Ol’ Saint Nick really has given me a Christmas miracle.”

  After nearly twenty minutes in line, it was my turn to approach the counter.

  “Merry Christmas, how may I assist you this morning,” said the much too perky woman behind the counter.

  “I need a one-way ticket on your next train to Detroit.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but all of our trains to Detroit are booked until tomorrow. There are several hotels in the area that should have vacancies. I’d be happy to book you on one of our departures tomorrow, if you’d like.”

  “It’s crucial that I get out today. Do you have anything that will get me remotely close to Detroit? Cleveland? Toledo? Chicago even?” I didn’t often beg, but that’s exactly what I found myself doing in this instance.

  “Let me see what I can do?”

  After a few seconds of typing, she said, “I do actually have a train leaving in twenty minutes from gate six for Toledo. We just had a cancellation and I have one seat available. Would you like me to book that for you,” she questioned.

  “Thank god. Yes, please. I’ll take it.”

  She took my information as I grabbed my things and began jogging to the gate. I was surprised to see Nick waiting nearby.

  “You vanished earlier,” I said. “I was starting to think you were Santa Claus. I guess my kid’s Christmas spirit is starting to rub off on me. Either that or I need more than a few hours of sleep in the back of your Astro Van,” I laughed. “What are you doing here anyways? I thought your travels would have you on your way by now.”

  “Oh, I had reserved a ticket to Toledo a few weeks back, but I won’t be needing it now,” he said with a gleam in his eye.