by Pike, Leslie
She blows me a kiss and gives me a little dance. “There’s absolutely nothing old about you,” she says wrapping up the show with a twirl and a flash of her boobs.
“More, more,” I say smiling my plea.
The woman looks fucking hot. The baggy low-slung pajama bottoms she changed into this morning are deceptively innocent. The light-blue long sleeved top a little tight. It rides above the waistband of the bottoms and shows a sliver of skin. I like it exactly as is.
While she makes quick work of folding the tent linens, I’m returning the furniture to their rightful places. And thinking of the past twenty-four hours. Our non-holiday last night was a success. I keep going over about how much fun the three of us had together. We’re a good team.
Ever since I woke up, the night’s been replaying in my mind. I haven’t been part of a fun family night in a long time. Not since Justin. He was always wrapped in the love of his grandparents and aunt and uncle and their families. Every holiday was a warm, loving scene.
That’s what last night felt like, minus the traditions. It was rich with the spirit. All we wanted was for Sam to forget the holiday for a few hours. To take the sting of being without his mom and dad away for the few hours he was most likely to be missing them. That was our only aim. But we got a lot more in the bargain. Didn’t know it would become something bigger.
A kind of a bonding happened. From my viewpoint anyway. There was an ease to our conversations and play. As if we’d been together for a long time, and this was just one of many memories we’d made over the years. It was so comfortable. Remarkable, really.
Coming back to the present, I check to make sure we’re not about to be busted by Sam. The water’s still running in the shower, so I’ve got a green light. I take the blanket from Scarlett and toss it on the couch. Then she’s in my arms and we’re dancing around the room to the John Legend song playing.
“How is it that you smell so good?”
I lift the long hair cascading down her back and put my lips against her neck. Kisses travel from ear to shoulder.
“I like this part of you. It turns me on.”
“Everything turns you on. I’m not complaining, mind you.”
Her hand takes ahold of my dick and moves to my balls.
“Did I jingle your balls?” She giggles when she says it.
“No. Can you do it now?”
Both of us are distracted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. Scarlett let’s go of her handful of me. Damn. We stop the dancing and I adjust myself.
“I’m out!” Sam yells from the hall.
He was warning us in case we were getting crazy. How he came up with that description we don’t know. But he says it whenever he catches us being romantic.
“He’s so funny,” Scarlett laughs.
“Go along with me here,” I say taking her in my arms and bending her backwards in a Hollywood kiss stance.
She likes my idea. “Oh yeah! Let’s freak him out.”
I listen for the footsteps and when I know they’re close I pretend to be kissing Scarlett like a man possessed. My back hides our faces, so I can really pour it on without actually touching her lips. For her part, she gives it her all, making little moans and loudly smacking her lips. It’s disgustingly believable. I nearly start laughing. The reaction is immediate.
“Oh, nooo! That’s crazy, you two! Stop!”
Sam continues with his review. There’s yucks and fake hurls. It goes on until we decide to put him out of his misery. I turn our bodies, so he can see there’s no actual making out going on. Scarlett pats my arm to stop the show.
“Get me up! My back!”
Sam’s face relaxes. A grin replaces the grimace.
“Very funny,” he says. “That was gross.”
I take Scarlett’s hand and we do a dramatic bow for the audience.
“Thank you,” she says to an imaginary crowd. “We’ll be signing autographs for those interested.”
Sam shakes his head as he takes a seat on the couch.
“There’s something seriously wrong with you guys.”
But she and I are amused and reward ourselves with a kiss.
“God,” Sam says under his breath.
I take a seat next to him while Scarlett continues with her blanket detail.
“It’s still a non-holiday you know? Day two.”
His eyes light up. “What are we doing today?”
“Well, there’s still the non-carols and most important of all, the gift steals. We haven’t done either of those.”
“Oh, that’s right! I’ve got to start thinking of what I’m going to take from you guys,” Scarlett says.
“I’m gonna go last on that one. Can we do it right now?” says Sam.
I look at Scarlett and she nods and shrugs.
“Yeah, if you want. I’m sure we can come up with something,” I say.
“Wait. How does this work? Do we steal from the other two? Or pick one?” Scarlett asks.
“The other two!” Sam hollers.
It surprises me that he’s so adamant. But good. He’s engaged.
“Okay, I’m going first,” I say watching the faces of my companions. “I already thought mine out.”
“Uh oh,” Scarlett says.
“Sam, I steal your cell for the rest of the day, so our non-holiday caroling will be uninterrupted. And Scarlett, I’ll be taking possession of the red lipstick you wear. It looks great on you, but it takes me forever to get off my face. And my clothes. And my, whatever.”
I’m happy with my choices, but I’m alone in the assessment. Sam’s curling his lip, and Scarlett’s eyes have gone wide.
“No! Not my Ruby Woo!!”
“Yep. Go get it and hand it over, wench.”
“What about me?” Sam says. “You just lose a friggin lipstick. I’m giving up my phone.”
I lean back and thread my fingers behind my head. “The king of the castle has spoken.”
I get an immediate reaction from them.
“I’ll crown you! This is my castle, you asshole,” I holler.
“Yeah, what she said,” Sam adds.
I just laugh. We all are.
“Sam, did you hear that? She called her king an asshole. I may have to chop off her head.”
“Don’t forget she still has a steal from you,” he says.
Uh oh.
A beautifully evil expression comes over Scarlett’s face.
“Thank you, Sam. I’d almost forgot. Let’s see. What can I steal that would really make the self-crowned king cringe?”
“What about his old grey sweater?”
“No. That’s not precious enough. Keep thinking.”
Sam looks around the house and his eyes settle on the wrapper on the table.
“What about his butterscotch candy?”
My eyes go wide with fake horror. Scarlett’s narrow in evil glee.
“That’s it! I hereby steal your candy. From here on I’m in charge of your intake. If you want one you go through me. And it’s for as long as you keep my lipstick.”
Sam starts laughing and I know I’m screwed.
“Wait! I want to do yours over again. I should have taken all your lipsticks.”
“Too bad. It has been decreed.”
“You’re really getting into this royals thing, aren’t you, princess?”
“I’m the queen, not the princess.”
God damn she’s cute. Even when she steals my candy.
“What about me?” Sam says.
She walks to where he sits and plops down beside him. Her arms encircle his shoulders. He’s feigning extreme discomfort, but I sense he kind of likes it. She kisses the top of his head.
“I’m stealing kisses. One a day.”
“Noooo,” Sam says trying to push away.
But Scarlett holds strong.
“You can’t refuse me. It’s my choice. Besides, it’s only one friggin’ peck a day.”
“I’m almost fourteen, Aunt Sc
arlett. We don’t do that.”
“Who’s we?”
“Boys.”
“Help me, Parish,” she pleads.
I hold up both hands stopping any further involvement. I’m staying out of this fascinating conversation.
“You still have three and a half weeks till your birthday,” she says. “Till then I want my kisses. At the very least hugs. I’ll settle for that measly show of affection.”
This makes Sam happy. He relaxes into her arms.
“Okay. Hugs it is. But just till January twenty-first.”
With that he breaks away and stands in front of us.
“Now me. I know what I want.” He says it with some embarrassment. This’ll be interesting.
“I’m gonna steal an hour from each of you.”
Scarlett and I look at each other, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“That sounds easy enough,” she says.
“I’m not finished. I want to go to Mass today. At St. Joseph’s. It’s the Christmas Mass and some of my friends will be there. What do you think?”
I don’t think we could be more surprised about his choice of a steal. Out of all the things he could have taken from each of us, he asked for our time and company. And to go to church. Scarlett gets teary. The woman’s a faucet.
“Oh, Sam! Yes. Of course.”
She gets up and tries to embrace him again, but he moves out of her reach.
“Stop it!”
He laughs as he moves backwards toward the kitchen. Then he looks at me.
“Can’t you control her?”
“You’ve got a lot to learn about women, Sam.”
* * *
St. Joseph’s is an old small church on the east end of town. Its rectory a house on the same property. I’ve been by here hundreds of times.
“How many priests stay here? I say.
“Just three. I think.”
I pull into the adjacent lot and park next to the church van.
The weather has turned, and the snow’s melted. Even though the sun’s out it’s still cold. I grab my gloves from the pocket in the door.
“Okay, remember to silence your cells,” Scarlett says.
“Parish has mine, remember?” Sam says, sarcasm heavy.
As we get out, I notice Sam scanning the full lot. He eyes every car.
He looks a little excited. For what I’m not sure. He sees these kids at school every day. It might be for the priest or the friends, but it doesn’t make sense. Whatever. I’m just going along with his request because it shows he’s beginning to heal.
As we walk up the few steps leading to the church doors, I notice him looking around for someone. Scarlett sees too. But neither of us question him. He obviously hasn’t seen whoever it is he’s looking for, because a minute ago I saw his shoulders sag and his mouth go crooked in a kind of frustration.
“You dip your fingers in the holy water and bless yourself,” he says to me as we walk inside.
I don’t tell him I know the routine. Or, that my family’s catholic. Or that I went to private catholic schools for twelve years. And in a strange coincidence that my grammar school bore the same name as this one.
I don’t want to get into the whole thing. I just give him a nod and let him take the lead.
The church looks beautifully familiar. Every church on Christmas Day takes on a special glow. I don’t exactly know what it is, but you can feel it, sense it. Everyone looks like they’re happy in a real way. Like they’ve just forgiven their enemy and been forgiven by someone they love. Like it’s a fresh start.
Sam takes us closer to the front than I thought he would. We’re practically at the first pew.
“Where do you want to sit, it’s almost twelve. Mass is going to start,” Scarlett says.
He’s stopped scoping the congregation and his eyes have settled on just one. It’s a young girl with long blonde hair and braces. And she’s shyly smiling back at him.
“We are really dense. Do you see what I see?” Scarlett whispers.
“Come on,” Sam says leading the way into the pew behind where the cute girl sits with her family.
“Shhh. You’re embarrassing me,” Sam mumbles to us under his breath.
I look at Scarlett and see the tenderness in her eyes. We both know what’s happening at the same time. This is how it feels to be the parent of a teenager.
Chapter 16
Scarlett
When I walk into the room I see Sam standing at the slider. He’s got binoculars trained on something on the sand.
“What’s so interesting?”
He answers without looking away. “Parish with his brother and sister.”
A rush of adrenaline courses through my veins.
“Oh, give me. I want to see. They got here last night.”
I make it to his side in two point two seconds and practically strangle him getting the cord off his neck. He makes a fake dramatic gurgling sound.
“Oh! Sorry. Let me look.”
I adjust the focus and scan the scene.
“Shit. I can’t find them!”
“They’re coming back from the lighthouse. Look about a quarter of the way.”
His instruction is perfect. There they are. Parish is wearing his camel pea coat and a knit scarf I’ve never seen before. He’s smiling while the brown-haired animated woman next to him talks. Her hands and arms helping to tell a story that makes both men laugh.
She’s pretty. Tallish. Thin. I like the white coat she’s wearing. Every so often she affectionately touches Parish on the arm. I think it’s just a natural gesture for her. Now she’s linking hers around the crook of his. Her head tilts to his shoulder, and they walk together. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable at all. That’s a good sign.
I move to the brother. He looks a lot like Parish but a little shorter and a bit older. Very handsome. No surprise. There’s a knit cap on his head. It’s the one I found for Parish in the boutique in town. The brother’s shyly smiling and letting the sister lead the conversation.
“What’re they doin’?” Sam says.
“The sister’s talking, and the guys are just listening.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Smart ass.”
“It looks like everyone’s getting along. They look relaxed in each other’s company.”
“I can’t believe he hasn’t talked to them in so long,” Sam says.
I put the binoculars down.
“He told me you two talked about it, right? That it was his decision, not theirs?”
He sits on the floor and grabs the remote. The TV powers on. He mutes the sound and turns back to me.
“Yeah. He told me.”
“Well, I don’t think it was the best decision. But sometimes when you go through something so horrible, like he did, you don’t think straight for a while.”
“Hope they forgive him. I wish I had a brother or sister.”
Oh my God. Sometimes he says something so tender it melts my heart. I start for him, planning to plant a kiss right on top of his adorable head. But his stiff arm and splayed fingers hold me back.
“Stop right there. You’ve already gone over your limit for the week.”
And then, just like that, he makes me laugh.
“So, what’s the plan? When everyone gets here are we gonna eat, play games or what?” Sam says.
I look at my watch and realize I’ve only got another hour till they land. Soon the entire family will be here. We’ll welcome in the New Year and Sam’s upcoming birthday together.
“All of the above. Tonight we’ll play some games. Your grandparents and uncles will be cooking. And Parish and his brother and sister will be joining us for both.”
That last sentence gives me the butterflies.
“Good. I’m glad Parish will be here. Does everybody know you’re boyfriend and girlfriend?”
I grit my teeth together and smile widely. “Not yet. But they will by the time he comes over. And let me do the telli
ng.”
“Shit! I wanted to.”
He says it knowing I’m not going to object to his little swear on New Year’s Eve. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.
“And so, long story short, we’re together,” I say to the gathered group in my kitchen.
I see exactly zero surprised faces staring back.
“Stunning development,” Aargon says dryly.
“We knew you liked each other, Scarlett,” says my mother.
“How?”
“You’re the Queen of Tells,” Noble says heading for the dining room with a stack of dishes.
“The giggles and the hair twirling. You act like you’re twelve when you do that. The night he came over to play cards, it was like you just saw Santa coming down the chimney,” Aargon laughs.
“And he was just about to eat your cookies,” Van adds.
“Very funny,” I say.
But Sam thinks it is, despite the fact I’m not sure he knows what it means. He goes into a fit of laughter.
“You did not know. Not all of you anyway. Did you know, Dad?”
“Of course. You forget your father knows everything,” he chuckles.
I see my mother roll her eyes. But she’s smiling.
“I can believe Van figured it out. He’s got that sixth sense,” I add.
“Who do you think said it first,” he says while opening the wine.
“What do you think about this whole thing, Sam? You like him?” Aargon asks.
Sam’s gathering the silverware and handing it to his grandparents to carry to the table.
“I like him. He’s nice. We go running on the beach on the weekends, and sometimes when I get home from school. And he’s a good cook.”
“Thank God for that. Otherwise you’re doomed to eat your aunt’s attempts,” Nobel says.
The doorbell interrupts the Parish Report. Here we go. Butterflies take flight!
“And don’t bust his balls too much, boys! Give the man a break,” my mother says, all too aware of their m.o.
The four of them talk at once, voicing fake assurances to go easy. Oh yeah, that’ll happen. But what they don’t know is I’ve got all the confidence that my man can handle whatever they dish out. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t give it right back.
