Louisa waved a hand at her. “Oh, shush. I’m more annoyed with myself than you.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Macy said. “What about? Surely not the flat iron. Everyone leaves those on by accident—or think they do.”
Louisa laughed. “I’m not mad about the flat iron. I’m annoyed because I did something really dumb. And selfish.”
What? What had she done? Macy was dying to know. So, apparently, were Ella, Greer, and Miss Thing. Their mouths were frozen halfway open.
“Wh-What did you do, Louisa?” Macy asked.
Her friend released a gusty sigh. “I told you I had a crush on an unavailable guy. Remember? At the mayor’s party.”
“Yes.” Macy remembered the conversation well.
Louisa exhaled a breath. “I never planned on telling a soul who that guy is. But I think I will today. It’s Celia’s husband Walter, of all people. I’ve been in love with him for years.”
“Are you kidding me?” cried Miss Thing.
Macy wanted to express a similar sentiment but held back. So did Greer and Ella.
“I’m not kidding.” Louisa made one of her comic faces. “It’s so ridiculous! He’s not even fun. Or great-looking. He’s just super smart, and he turns me on like no one else I’ve ever met.”
Miss Thing loved being let in on delicious secrets. “We can’t understand how or why Cupid strikes,” she soothed Louisa, “so give yourself a break.”
“What Miss Thing said.” Macy’s temple pounding with stress. This was all so strange.
Louisa shook her head. “I set up a stupid plan. I knew Celia was infatuated with Deacon. So when Penelope asked me if I’d be willing to help Deacon win you over and I found out his plans for that night, I was like, I can use this to my advantage! While you two were with Celia at the concert, I’d make a play for Walter. He was in Myrtle Beach at a medical convention. I knew where he was staying and everything. So I went up there. I lied to you when you called to check on me. I didn’t meet up with an old friend who’d come to town. I headed to Myrtle Beach.”
“You did?”
“Yes. And I didn’t feel guilty because I was doing Deacon this really nice favor. Like the bad would be canceled out by the good.” She snorted. “That was dumb logic. But I was horny for Walter. Madly in love too. You know how that goes.”
“Yes, I do,” said Macy. “I’m not gonna lie.” She was reeling from Louisa’s revelation, but she’d be a hypocrite if she acted too shocked. What people did for love wasn’t always right or smart, but often they did it anyway.
“You were so funny on the phone,” Louisa said, “how worried you were about me!”
Macy remembered how close Deacon had stood to her on Louisa’s front doorstep. “I felt like something wasn’t right.”
“Your gut was on target,” Louisa said.
“I honestly thought Celia had somehow intimidated you into not coming to Yo-Yo Ma, so she could be with Deacon and sabotage my matchmaking plans at the same time.”
Louisa laughed. “Really? Poor Celia.”
“I know,” said Macy. “I’m ashamed of myself.”
“Well, if she weren’t all over Deacon, then you never would have jumped to that conclusion,” said Greer.
“What ever happened with Walter?” Ella asked.
“He was completely uninterested,” Louisa said. “I don’t think he even understood what I was trying to do—seduce his ass. Meanwhile, I still held out hope that Celia would somehow move in on Deacon eventually. She’s Fran Banks’ social consultant. She’s at her condo a lot.”
“She does drop in,” Macy said. “But I get the feeling Deacon’s not exactly fond of her.”
Louisa chuckled. “How many people really are?”
No one said a word. It seemed kinder not to.
“Can you forgive me, Louisa, for my professional and personal lapse—sleeping with a client in your bedroom?” Macy asked.
Louisa looked sheepish. “I felt a little guilty worrying you like that at the concert. But karma’s a bitch. Look what happened when I tried to do something sneaky. Two people going at it on my bedroom floor, and I’m not even one of them.”
“Oh, Louisa!” Macy laughed and got down on the floor. “You’re so funny. Your time will come, I know it.”
Louisa threw her arm around her shoulder. “I thought Walter Waterford was destined to be mine if I wanted him enough. But clearly he’s not. I think he really does love Celia, even though she doesn’t appreciate him.”
They gave each other a long hug.
“Let’s celebrate what we do have,” Macy said. “Good friends are important.”
“Cheers to that,” said Louisa.
After six bottles of champagne and lots of dancing to their favorite songs in the Green Room, the five of them were feeling pretty good.
“To friendship,” Miss Thing said for the umpteenth time, and took a large swallow from her vintage champagne saucer glass. “This is sho much better than a flute. You have to pinch your mouth up like a guppy to get anything from one of those. But this saucer glass”—she demonstrated by taking another large swallow—“ish perfect.”
They all laughed.
“Good thing no one has to drive home.” Ella threw her arm around Miss Thing.
Home.
Now every time Macy walked into her bedroom, she’d think of Deacon being there. She’d remember how whole she felt when they were making love, how happy she’d been.
She started crying. Big buckets of tears. “I’m s-sad,” she managed to say, “about Deacon.”
“Oh, baby!” all of them said at once. Or words to that effect. And hugged her close.
“I understand why things don’t work out sometimes.” Macy hiccupped and gulped. “Honestly, I do. But I think I might have ruined everything. I-I’ve always been scared to fall in love. But I never told you why.”
So she did. She told them about walking into her den one day after school, when her father and mother were usually at work and she was usually at piano lessons or tennis, and seeing her father kissing Celia’s mother. Both of them were only half-dressed. Neither one of them saw her.
“They were too … well, you know, involved,” said Macy. Miss Thing handed her a tissue, and she wiped her eyes.
Ella patted her back. “How awful for you. And you’ve been holding it in all these years?”
“I never told anyone but my sister,” Macy said, “and she said we should keep it a secret. Somehow Mom figured it out, though, and she and Dad fixed things. But that year … I remember I couldn’t breathe. Now I know it’s because I was so stressed and scared.”
Macy was never good with drinking a lot. And her tears had been buried too long. If they were going to come out, along with that long-held secret, she was really glad they did with these women.
Ten minutes later, in the mirror, her face was beet red and her eyes were swollen. “How am I going to be able to act as a hostess at the Toys for Tots party in the morning?”
“The schwelling will go down,” said Miss Thing, who got too close to her face to observe it. “Ish bad right now.”
“Great.” Macy sighed.
“Don’t listen to Miss Thing,” Ella said. “You can put cucumbers or tea bags on your eyes before the party if you need to. I’ve got some really awesome herbal tea bags in my office. Let’s put a couple on right now.”
Everyone followed her. She turned on the light in her office and went rummaging through her desk.
“What’s this?” Miss Thing was at one of Ella’s bookcases. A beautiful coffee table book of Charleston was displayed, front cover out.
“Oh, I got that from a client for Christmas,” Ella said. “It’s lovely.”
Miss Thing picked it up. And then she promptly dropped it on the floor.
In the rush to pick it up, Greer and Miss Thing bumped heads.
“Ouch,” they both said at once.
Miss Thing rubbed her scalp. Greer sat in Ella’s chair. The chair roll
ed gently backward and landed with a thud against the wall. Greer chuckled and spun it around with her feet. Then she pushed against the baseboard to get the chair back to its original position at the desk.
While she was rolling back, the baseboard swung open about two inches.
“You kicked it too hard,” said Louisa.
But Macy had a feeling. Her heart started racing. “Ella—”
“Oh my God.” Ella put her hand to her heart. “Something precious,” she whispered.
Sure enough, her nonna had been right. A treasure, they soon found, was hidden behind that baseboard. There was a fresh round of tears, happy ones. This time even Louisa cried. She was enthralled by the whole story.
“Before we all leave tonight, let’s run up the street to Roastbusters to celebrate,” said Greer. “Peppermint cocoa for everyone. My treat. Macy, we’ll hide you in the corner with your extra puffy eyes and bring you yours.”
“You’d better hide me too,” said Miss Thing. “I’m shitfaced. But I’m glad I dropped that book.”
Everyone laughed. Miss Thing was quite ridiculous, and they loved that about her.
“Andy knows just how to make my cocoa,” Macy said.
And he did. He made it perfectly, with the cherry on top. Everyone razzed Macy about it. But not Andy. He only winked. She felt very loved when she walked home that night—very loved and very excited.
The treasure … the precious treasure. It had been found!
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Get up!” Aunt Fran pushed on Deacon’s shoulder. “Time for the Toys for Tots party.”
He groaned. “It’s too early.”
“It’s noon, kid. Rise and shine.” Aunt Fran was too perky for her own good now that she and the colonel were an item.
The colonel called her Frannie.
She called him Freddie.
Deacon wanted to gag. Love was a pain in the ass. And he really wanted to get back to New York to forget that fact.
Also, Christmas sucked. Didn’t everyone know?
“George? Can you help me, please?” Aunt Fran’s voice was more shrill than usual.
“I’ll be right there,” George called. “Gareth has particularly bad body odor today. He found a dead squirrel and rolled all over it in the park. Let me put him right under Deacon’s nose. That’ll get him moving.”
Deacon groaned. “I hate you all.”
“That’s fine,” Aunt Fran replied mildly. “As long as you get your ass out of bed and you’re ready to roll in thirty minutes. Did you buy a present for a deserving child?”
“Yes. I bought a bunch of bikes for teenagers.”
“That’s a shock,” said Aunt Fran. “You’ve been sulky and uncooperative, I assumed you hadn’t done anything, so I used the money I was going to put toward your Christmas suit to buy a few sets of mini Bluetooth speakers.”
Deacon’s head hurt. That was all he cared about. “I didn’t want a new suit anyway.”
“Good,” Aunt Fran said. “You’re acting childish. You’ve only been given a million blessings and don’t seem to appreciate them.”
“Stop with the badgering. I’m not on your show.” He sat up and winced.
“That’s right. You’re not.” She sat next to him and put her hand on his back. “You’re not someone I say hi and bye to. You’re my nephew. I love you more than anyone on the planet. And I know you have great things inside you.”
He shook his head. “I’m ordinary, Aunt Fran. I’m not like you—someone everyone relates to. You’ve got a special quality—”
“That you have too. And don’t you dare squander it.” She stood. “You don’t have to be on TV to do amazing things. Nor do you have to work yourself to the bone at your job to prove you’re a captain of the tech industry. Why don’t you try to relax? Like you have this month? And get to know yourself better? Cut your workload in half. You’ll still make plenty of money.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Your father—”
“Don’t talk about him.” Deacon put his head in his hands.
She threw open the curtains, and a shaft of sunlight pierced him between the eyes. “Your father,” she insisted on saying, “valued every second of his life with your mother.”
“Please,” Deacon said, “don’t make me feel guilty.”
Aunt Fran stomped her foot. “You think I’m worried about you? I feel guilty! Here I’ve brought up my brother’s son, and I must have done a piss-poor job because you love a certain woman very dear to me too, and you don’t have the balls to tell her so, for reasons I cannot fathom. Son, you’re a Banks. And Banks don’t run.”
Deacon shifted. The bedsprings creaked under his weight. “Did I just hear you tell me I have no balls?”
“I don’t know. Did you?”
“Hey.” He cast a bleary eye in her direction. “That’s not nice.”
“Well, you haven’t been nice yourself.”
“And you’re wrong, you know. About Macy. I don’t love her. I like her. A lot.”
“Is that so?” Aunt Fran pierced him with a knowing look. “I’m glad your heart’s not involved. Because any day now some brilliant, sensitive man is going to recognize he can’t live without her. And he’s going to sweep her off her feet while you’re flirting with sweet young girls half your age. What a shame.”
George was in the room now. He looked upset. Angry. Concerned. All the emotions people feel when someone they love is screwing up their lives without any help from anyone else.
Deacon stood, ignoring the nausea in his belly and his crashing headache, all self-induced from slamming too many beers the night before. As he put his hands on his aunt’s shoulders, he could feel those frail bones of hers trembling.
That broke his heart.
“Coming to Charleston,” he said, “has made me realize there are things I need to face, and things I’m missing out on. I’m not going to run anymore. I promise. I always felt safer that way. But I’m learning that safe is dull.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” His aunt had some of her perkiness back, but there was still an edge of seriousness in her tone. “I know that sometimes I rush through life too fast too. No one likes to stop and feel the hard parts, you know? But we need to. They’re worse when we avoid them. And eventually, they catch up with us.” She paused. “I know you’ve always had a big hole in your life.”
He wouldn’t deny it.
“And you feel guilty because sometimes you wonder what life would have been like with your parents,” she said softly.
Deacon raked a hand through his hair. “I have wondered that. And I do feel guilty sometimes. But if someone told me I could choose another life—a different path—I’d say no. I love my life exactly the way it is. And I have you to thank for it.” He took a deep, cleansing breath. “You’ve been the greatest aunt in the world. And you’ve taught me all the right things. I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. I love you.” He hugged her close.
He looked over at George, who had a tear rolling down his cheek.
“I love you too,” Aunt Fran said into Deacon’s chest. “I can’t breathe, but I do.”
He managed a chuckle and let her go. She laughed.
“I need a tissue.” George whimpered quite convincingly as he left the room.
Deacon gathered his resolve. “I have a couple of plans I’ve been thinking about, and I’m done with thinking. I’m ready to do something about them.”
When he had told his aunt all the details, she patted his cheek. “A little tough love can wreak miracles. It worked on me too, when you forced me out of bed to see the colonel.”
“George is next,” Deacon said.
They both turned. There he was in the doorway.
“When hell freezes over,” George replied serenely. His tears were gone. “Chop-chop!” He clapped his hands together twice. “It’s time for a Toys for Tots party. And a lot else, apparently.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
When the th
ree young Marines showed up at Two Love Lane—two men and one woman—to oversee the collection of the toys they would gather that morning, Macy’s heart filled with pride. Their community cared. And it was made up of awesome individuals like these military heroes and all the people of Charleston who’d brought an unwrapped gift to share with a child or a teen.
The colonel was Santa, and as usual, he did a fantastic job putting kids on his lap and asking them their wildest Christmas desires. Fran was so besotted, she handed out cookies to the children when they finished detailing their Christmas lists to the colonel.
Andy from Roastbusters sang “O Holy Night” in his beautiful tenor voice. And then the children’s choir from a local elementary school sang a merry assortment of Christmas carols.
George brought all the Corgis, each one sporting reindeer antlers, and took pictures for anyone who wanted to pose with them. Bubbles snarled at only one person—Celia—because he remembered the night she came over and called him fat.
At least that was George’s explanation to Celia, who listened patiently.
Macy realized she owed Celia an apology. A big one.
When the last Christmas carol had been sung and all the toys were piled high, ready to be put in a truck for delivery to the main Toys for Tots station, she took Celia by the elbow. “I need to say I’m sorry. The night of Yo-Yo Ma, I thought you’d sabotaged Louisa’s date with Deacon.”
Celia made a typical Celia face—half-shocked, half-disgusted. “I wondered why you were being so catty after the performance.”
Macy felt terrible. “It was wrong of me. Please forgive me. I should never, ever have assumed you were involved.”
Celia shifted uneasily. “That’s okay.… I guess.”
Macy decided to take the plunge. “How are things with Walter?”
“Fine.” Celia snorted. “Aren’t you being a little nosy?”
“Yes.” Macy admitted. “I just hope—”
“You hope what?”
“I wasn’t able to help you with one of your relationships,” Macy said in a rush, “but I hope by telling you this, I can maybe help you save this one.”
Christmas at Two Love Lane Page 28
