Happily This Christmas--A Novel

by Susan Mallery

  “Was she close to Joylyn?”

  “No. They got along, but it wasn’t a great friendship. I don’t think that’s what set her off.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it,” she said. “That’s when the DEA work started?”

  He nodded. “The first time I went to Colombia, it was for three months. Joylyn had already started refusing to see me. I told her I had to be gone for work, and she said she didn’t care.”

  Wynn heard the pain in his voice. “I know that was hard.”

  He looked past her. “It sucked. I came back and tried to get her to hang out with me, but she continued to refuse. So I took another assignment. This one lasted over a year.”

  “I didn’t know you were gone that long.”

  “I didn’t mean to be. Things got complicated.”

  She thought about the scars on his torso and wondered if they had anything to do with the “complications.”

  “Does Joylyn know why you were gone for so long?”

  “She knows it was work. Or at least she knows that’s what I told her. Based on a more recent conversation, I’m not sure she believed me.”

  Men, Wynn thought with a sigh. “Were you more specific with her? Does she know you were undercover, working a dangerous assignment?”

  His gray gaze settled on her face. “How do you know it was dangerous?”

  “Oh, please. I watch TV. Drug cartels aren’t known for their philanthropy.”

  “I’ve never talked about it with her.”

  “Then maybe you should start there. If she knows what you were doing, she might be more forgiving of your absence. Assuming that’s what she’s upset about.”

  “I don’t think it is. She was mad at me before I left.” He set down his glass. “No offense, but your gender is complicated.”

  “Yes, we are, but we also smell nice.”

  He chuckled. “You do.” He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa and rested his fingers on her shoulder. “Change of subject?”

  She nodded, shifting closer.

  “How are you doing on the Thanksgiving prep work? I’d like to help.”

  “Thanks, but I’m in good shape. I did my last-minute shopping this morning before I went to work, the turkey is sitting in the refrigerator and I’ve already put out the Thanksgiving decorations.”

  “You’re prepared. I’m going to make Waldorf salad. I hope that’s okay.”

  “We can always use another side.”

  “It’s a thing. I made it every year for Joylyn and brought it over to her mom’s for dinner.”

  And there it was. Niceness. Genuine caring. Even if she didn’t think he was hot and a really great kisser, he was winning her over with stories like that.

  “What did Sandy think of having Thanksgiving with her stepdaughter’s mother?”

  “It wasn’t her favorite. She wanted her own traditions. To be fair, she was happy to include Joylyn, but I didn’t want to make Joylyn have to split her time between her mom and me. Not on Thanksgiving.” He drew in a breath. “I guess I wasn’t always a great husband.”

  “Maybe not, but you were a terrific dad.”

  “Thanks. Tell that to Joylyn.”

  “I will.”

  Instead of smiling, he grew more pensive. “She has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. I was thinking I’d take off work and go with her.” He held up a hand. “I’m not talking about going in the room or anything. I just want to be there because it’s a new doctor and she’s eight months pregnant.”

  “That’s a great idea,” she told him, wondering how Joylyn would react. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to go by herself.” But having her dad along might be too much for her. “Do you want me to go with her instead?” She shook her head. “I’m not trying to butt in, I’m just wondering if having another woman there would be easier for her.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but you can’t take off work.”

  “I can. We’re not very busy right now, and it’s only a couple of hours. I’m happy to do it.”

  “Thank you. I think it might be easier for her to have you there rather than me. If we were tight again, it would be different.”

  He looked so sad as he spoke that she reacted without thinking. She slid close and wrapped her arms around him.

  “You two are going to figure this out.”

  He hugged her back. “I hope so.”

  “Don’t give up on her. She needs to know that you can’t be pushed away by her attitude.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  As he spoke, he leaned close and pressed his mouth to hers. She relaxed into the kiss, liking the feel of his lips on hers.

  Wanting flickered to life, but she ignored the need. With Hunter playing video games just down the hall, nothing more was going to happen, but just kissing was nice.

  He moved back and forth a little, but didn’t deepen the kiss, as if he, too, knew the limitations of the night. When he drew back, he smiled at her.

  “I thought it was supposed to be easier when kids got older.”

  “I wish.”

  He stared into her eyes. “Me, too.”

  And for now, that was enough.

  * * *

  JOYLYN SAT IN the backyard watching butterflies drift from one flowering bush to another. She supposed that in other parts of the country, people were bracing to deal with subfreezing temperatures and snow, but in the desert southwest, there were still flowers and butterflies.

  She told herself she had to get moving, that not showing up for her doctor’s appointment was a dumb move. And being scared because the doctor was new to her didn’t make any sense, either. She was eight months pregnant—she needed to be seen by a medical professional.

  Brushing away tears, she stood and walked into the house. She peed, then got her handbag and was halfway to the front door when the doorbell rang.

  “Oh, hi,” she said, surprised to see Wynn on the porch. “What’s up?”

  “I’m here to make an offer,” Wynn told her. “Feel free to say no. Your dad told me about your doctor’s appointment this morning. I would imagine you’re not excited about seeing someone new when you’re so far along. If you think it would help, I’m happy to go with you. Not into the room or anything, but just on the drive and in the waiting room. For moral support.”

  The unexpected act of kindness brought the ever-present tears back to the surface. Joylyn blinked them away.

  “That would be really nice,” she said, her throat tightening. “I was a little nervous about going, so a friendly face would help.”

  “Then let’s go. Want me to drive?”

  “Do you know where my appointment is?”

  “Yes. I use the same practice. All the doctors there are great.”

  Joylyn got into Wynn’s car and fastened her seat belt. Some of her tension eased.

  “How are you feeling?” Wynn asked as she backed out of the driveway.

  “Good. The baby is very active, which I like.”

  “Do you talk to your husband much?”

  “We FaceTime a few days a week, but I still miss him.”

  “You’re down to less than a month until he comes home, right?”

  “I’m counting the days. I keep telling myself I should have stayed on base rather than moving in with my mom. I miss my friends there.”

  “When will you go back?”

  “Once Chandler’s home and his leave is done, we’ll get a new assignment and new housing.”

  “It must be hard to feel settled when you don’t know where you’re going to end up.”

  “It is.”

  Wynn drove through the streets of town. Joylyn had a vague idea of where the doctor’s office was and appreciated that she didn’t have to worry about finding it.

  “Are you going
to stay with your dad until then?”

  Joylyn glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

  “I just wondered if you were going to stay in town here, rather than moving back with your mom. There will be three of you and from what I understand, the house is already full.” Wynn smiled. “I think your dad would be happy to have you stick around.”

  Stay here? Joylyn had never considered that. She’d assumed they would leave the second Chandler got back, which was a week before the baby was due. Wynn’s point was a good one though—there wasn’t all that much room at her mom’s place. But staying here?

  “He doesn’t want me here.”

  “Your dad?” Wynn shook her head. “You’re wrong about that. He’s excited you’re staying.” She smiled. “He’s lived next door to me for about a year, but we never really said much more than hi until he found out you were going to be moving in. He came over and asked me to help get the house ready so you’d be comfortable. He had the bedroom set, but not any of the linens, and his empty kitchen was a total disaster.”

  Joylyn didn’t know what to say to that. While she wanted to believe her dad was glad she was around, she just couldn’t.

  “I used to be important to him,” she admitted. “Just not anymore.”

  “Why would you say that? Your dad loves you, Joylyn. He’s so proud of you. I don’t know what happened before, but I would suggest you at least talk about it. Ask questions. The answers may surprise you.”

  Joylyn didn’t want to fight, so she nodded, as if she would take Wynn’s advice to heart. The truth was, she didn’t care about questions or answers. Not when it came to her dad.

  She put her hand on her stomach. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about being alone when you were pregnant. How did you handle that?”

  “I didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t anyone else. I tried to save as much as I could so I could take off for three weeks after the birth, but I had no idea how much everything cost. Have you priced diapers? They’re really expensive.”

  “I know, and babies need a lot.”

  “More than you think—that’s for sure.” Wynn made a left turn. “I had a small inheritance from an old lady in our building. Ms. James. She’d never married and she didn’t have much when she died, but she left it all to me. She used to tell me I could make something of myself if only I’d put in the effort. It broke my heart to use that money to pay for food and rent. She’d wanted better for me.”

  Joylyn glanced at her. “Like going to college?”

  “Something like that. Certainly more than me getting pregnant the way I did.” Something flashed in Wynn’s eyes. “She would have been very disappointed with me.”

  “What happened? How did you end up here?”

  “Hunter’s father died. I didn’t know until a lawyer showed up at my front door to tell me there was a life insurance policy. I was three weeks away from being evicted, and when the man told me about the money, I couldn’t stop crying.”

  “What did you do with it?”

  “Paid my rent.” She glanced at Joylyn and grinned. “Bought diapers.” Her smile faded. “I got myself into a two-year graphics program at a local community college, and I worked my butt off to be the best student I could. After I graduated I got a job in the business and continued to learn the industry. When I found out about a business for sale in some little town I’d never heard of, I came to check it out. That was ten years ago.”

  “You’re really brave.”

  “No. I was scared every second, but I recognized the chance I’d been given. I was determined not to blow it. I wanted more than I had, and I was going to make it happen.”

  Joylyn was pretty sure that was the definition of being brave. That if you weren’t scared, then there was no courage in the act. She wondered if she’d been in the same circumstances if she would have acted the same or if she would have crumbled and given up. She couldn’t think of a single time in her life when she’d been the least bit brave. Or even determined. If she were honest with herself, she had a feeling she would have to admit that when the going got tough, she found a place to hide until all the bad stuff went away.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THANKSGIVING MORNING GARRICK got up early to make the Waldorf salad. He’d gone to the grocery store the day before, shocked at the crowds and the long lines to check out. But he’d wanted to have all their traditions in place. He had ingredients for the salad and the blueberry pancakes he always made on the special morning. He’d also bought yellow roses—Joylyn’s favorite—for the kitchen table. He knew her plans were to return to Phoenix as soon as Chandler was home, so the week before Christmas she would be leaving. This was the only holiday he was going to get to spend with his little girl.

  By seven the salad was assembled and in the refrigerator, ready to take over to Wynn’s later that afternoon. He had batter ready for the pancakes and coffee brewing. As he wasn’t sure what time Joylyn would get up, he busied himself going online to study patterns for bassinets.

  The idea had come to him a couple of days ago. He wanted to give his daughter something special for her baby. Joylyn and Chandler had a gift registry and he’d looked over that. There were a lot of great items, but rather than buy any of them, he was going to give the new parents money to use as they liked. But he also wanted to give them something personal. He’d always enjoyed woodworking and had made a few pieces of furniture. From what he’d learned online, a simple wooden bassinet wouldn’t be too difficult a project. If he got started this weekend, he should have it finished in plenty of time.

  A little before eight, Joylyn wandered into the kitchen.

  “Morning,” he said cheerfully. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” she said, her expression neutral.

  He tried to find comfort in the fact that she wasn’t glaring at him. Progress. Of course it was still early—there was plenty of time for her to get pissed at him for no reason.

  He poured her juice. “Do you want bacon with your blueberry pancakes?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “How are you feeling?” he asked as she took a seat at the table.

  “Awful, but regular awful. Nothing worse.”

  “Counting the days?” he asked sympathetically.

  She rubbed her belly. “Being pregnant is harder than I thought it would be.”

  He knew her doctor’s appointment the previous day had gone well, so there were no physical concerns about the baby, but just looking at her belly and the way her back bowed when she walked made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t imagine having to live it.

  He was just about to pour the batter on the griddle when her phone chimed. Joylyn glanced at the screen before smiling at him.

  “It’s Chandler. Can we hold off on breakfast?”

  “Sure,” he said, even though he was already talking to her retreating back. She ran down the hall and disappeared into her room.

  He stood at the counter, not sure if he should make his own breakfast or wait for her to come back. He figured there was a fifty-fifty chance of him picking wrong regardless, but he erred on the side of waiting. It seemed more polite.

  As Joylyn took her call, Garrick carried his coffee out to the living room and stared out the big front window. He supposed he should be happy that things weren’t worse between them, but he sure wished they were better. He missed his little girl.

  Okay, Joylyn wasn’t a child anymore, but it wasn’t about her being small. It was about them being close. He loved her and wanted the best for her, but he also wanted them to be friends. He wanted to know what she was thinking and feeling. He wanted to be a part of her life—only they’d been apart for so long, he didn’t know how to get them connected again.

  About fifteen minutes later, she came out of the bedroom. Her eyes were red and swollen and her face was wet with tears.

 
; “I hate this,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Being apart from him like this. He’s so far away. I miss him and I can’t do this without him.”

  He instinctively reached for her. She jerked free of his touch.

  “You can’t make this better,” she screamed. “You can’t. Just leave me alone. I don’t want to see you or talk to you. I don’t want to have Thanksgiving with you. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone!”

  She returned to her bedroom and slammed her door shut. Even from the living room he could hear the sound of her sobs. He stood where he was and had absolutely no idea what to do next. Finally he walked into the kitchen and dumped the batter into the trash before changing into sweatpants and a T-shirt and heading out for a run.

  * * *

  WYNN LOOKED AROUND the kitchen, double-checking that she had everything handled. The turkey was in the oven and three pies were cooling on a rack. She had the casserole dish with dressing ready to go in the oven when the turkey came out. She and Hunter had already watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, and now her son was curled up in the family room, watching the football game and reading comic books.

  She crossed to the dining room to make sure that was ready to go, as well. She’d set the table earlier that morning, using her good china and the seasonal table linens. Instead of flowers as a centerpiece, she had small gourds running down the center of the table, along with red and orange leaves, a few pinecones and several beautiful seashells she added for texture. The largest shell she placed in the center was red, but the rest were cream and brown and pink, blending with the autumn colors of the linens.

  The side table was set up to serve as the buffet. Wynn had all her serving pieces out to make sure there was room for everything. Renee and Jasper were bringing a sweet potato casserole and Drew, Silver and their daughter Autumn had offered to provide green beans and fresh rolls that Silver and Autumn were making fresh this morning. Garrick, of course, had his Waldorf salad.