A Twist of Christmas Fate

by Scarlett Knight

  “Mickey?” I asked, my voice cracking in my dry throat.

  She shook her head. “How did you find out about my family?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I looked down, too, not wanting to tell on Jasmine, but knowing Mickey was probably smart enough to figure it out.

  “You know what?” she said. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She gave me an emotionless smile and stood up. My heart began to race in panic as she gathered the olive jar and our empty wine glasses. God, I’d really screwed things up. What the hell did I expect? Jasmine had told me that Mickey felt insecure about her family situation. What had possessed me to say such a thing? Was I that deluded to think that we really did have a connection so deep that I could bring up something like that on the first date?

  I waited for her to come back, giving into the urge to nervously chew on my thumbnail. When she didn’t return for several minutes, I looked around to search for her. I found her talking to someone sitting at the bar; she stood with her back to me, hands on her hips. Apparently, she wasn’t in too big of a hurry to come back. Damn, I had really blown it, hadn’t I?

  Overcome with embarrassment, I decided the best course of action would probably be to leave. So I quietly slipped out of the bar. The cool evening air hit me as I ascended the stairs, sobering me up even more. After I got into my car and buckled in, I sent her a quick text: I’m so sorry, Mickey. I put my foot in my mouth. I won’t bring it up again. Headed home. Thank you for the drinks. I hope you can forgive me.

  As I started the long drive back home, I began mentally working on the apology I was going to have to give Jasmine tomorrow for being such an idiot tonight. Mickey might now get mad at Jasmine for telling me about her family. Jasmine needed to know what was going on. My intentions were pure, but I had been careless in the execution.

  When I got home and parked, I checked my phone and saw that my text had gone unanswered. With a heavy sadness in my chest, I went straight to bed, peeling off my clothes and diving into the comfort of my covers. I hugged one of my pillows and stared out into the darkness. Thanks to a hefty dose of guilt, regret, and self-remorse, I slept horribly.

  I also forgot to set my alarm clock.

  ***

  When I woke up, it was to the sound of someone attempting to connect via FaceTime. It took me a minute to remember what day it was—and where I was supposed to be today. As soon as I saw the time (9:30 a.m.), I grabbed the phone, sitting up so fast that little stars filled my vision.

  “Jasmine!” I squeaked.

  “Hey, Kate!” From her surroundings, I deduced she was in the dressing room. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine! Jasmine, I am so sorry. I am on my way!”

  “Wait! You haven’t left yet?”

  “No, I cannot believe this, but I forgot to set my alarm clock! I—”

  “Wait, hold up!” She laughed. “I thought you might have gotten into a wreck or something! You aren’t even out yet! That’s good. My husband just called, and there’s a cold front moving in. It’s estimated to be a lot worse than the original forecast. They’re saying to expect icy roads. If you aren’t out yet, please don’t get out on the roads. The mall might even close early, depending on when it hits.”

  “I had no idea.” I pinched the bridge of my nose to stop the headache that was trying to come. Last night’s events all started flooding back to my mind, and I winced. “Jasmine, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “If it’s about Mickey, she already told me.”

  Oh, boy. This was not good.

  “I feel awful, Jasmine. I don’t know what came over me. You told me she was sensitive about it, and I blurted it out like an idiot. Was she mad at you?”

  “A little, but the thing with Mickey is, she sometimes has a short fuse, but she doesn’t stay mad for long.”

  I silently begged to differ, as I still had not gotten a reply to my text last night.

  “I made a big mess of everything,” I said, my shoulders slumping.

  “Don’t worry about it. Don’t let something silly like this ruin your Christmas. It’s all water under the bridge at this point.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Listen, I gotta run. I just came back here so that I could call you, but we still have a lot of kids out there.”

  “I feel terrible! Tell everyone I’m all right and that I am so sorry!”

  “I’ll tell everyone you’re all right, but no need to be sorry. Stay home, stay safe, and have a good Christmas. I mean it! I appreciate everything you did to help yesterday, truly!”

  “You’re welcome. Are you sure you—?”

  “Love you, hun!” She cut me off and blew me a kiss. “Have a Merry Christmas!”

  “Love you, too.” I half-heartedly blew one back.

  She terminated the call, and I collapsed back in bed, my eyes stinging and my head pounding. I had half a mind to stay in bed all day and pout.

  Should I text Mickey again?

  No, if she hadn’t responded to last night’s text, sending another this morning would only make me look pathetic. It also might piss her off even more. Better to leave it alone. I had apologized, and now it was up to her whether or not she wanted to accept the apology. Sighing, I put the phone back on the bedside table.

  I tried to go back to sleep, but there was no way it was happening; I was too anxious. Instead, I got up and ran a hot bath. While it was running, I picked up the clothes I’d taken off last night and carried them to the laundry. My heart broke a little when I caught a whiff of Mickey’s cinnamon scent, still lingering on the arm of my shirt.

  ***

  Face-Timing with my family later that afternoon helped to lift my spirits. Even though I wasn’t leaving the house today, I put on the red velvet Christmas dress I had bought to wear in New York. I dressed up as if I were there and spent a good hour talking to my mother, father, brother, sister-in-law, and other relatives and friends who had made it to the party. Though she was too small to understand cell phones, my baby niece waved her arms and smiled. I teared up when I saw her in her little green dress. I might have missed the Christmas get-together, but I silently vowed to make a trip up to see my niece in person very soon.

  I hadn’t been off the phone for five minutes before I heard the doorbell ring. As I walked over to my stereo to turn the volume down on the Christmas station I’d been listening to, I wondered who in the world could be at the door today of all days, especially with the weather getting as bad as it was. When I opened it to find Mickey, looking positively stunning in a silver dress, I couldn’t have been more shocked.

  “Mickey!” I exclaimed.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk. If you would hear me out, that is.”

  She carried a potted poinsettia under one arm and held a bottle of wine in her other hand. The wind whipped at her back, the sky a gun-metal gray. Freezing ran begin pricking the ground behind her, and goosebumps from the cold raced up my arms.

  “Come in,” I said, still in shock. “It’s freezing.”

  She followed me in and handed me the plant and bottle of wine. I turned the bottle over to see what kind it was: Cabernet Sauvignon. I turned to her.

  “You remembered,” I said with a smile.

  She shrugged. “I have a good memory for people’s drink preferences.”

  “Good point.” I observed the pretty plant and wiped some of the cold rain off of the soft crimson petals. “This is beautiful, Mickey, thank you so much.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  My heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Thanks.”

  “Really, you look great. Oh, shit! Did you make plans to go somewhere tonight? I can head out. I don’t want to intrude.”

  “No, don’t leave! I swear I don’t have plans. I was just Face-Timing with my family and thought it might be nice to wear what I’d planned to wear up there.”

 
“Oh! I see.”

  “You look great, too,” I said. “Did you have somewhere you were headed after this?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” I placed the gifts on the dining table and then steadied myself before turning to face her again. “So how did you find out where I live?”

  “You got some information from Jasmine about me,” she said with a shrug, “so I got some information about you. Now we’re equal.”

  Jasmine. Of course. I let out a shaky sigh, taking in the sight of Mickey, trying not to linger on her gorgeous curves in her little silver dress. She wore a matching choker, and she’d dusted her eyelids in a metallic powder. Her lips were painted a dark, kiss-me red.

  “Mickey,” I began, “Listen, I’m so sorry, I—”

  “No apologies, Kate. Let’s just talk.”

  I let out a sigh, still feeling guilty. “Okay.”

  “Why did you leave so suddenly last night?”

  “I thought I’d upset you. I thought you probably wanted me to leave.”

  “I was upset, but not at you. I didn’t want you to leave.”

  “Then why didn’t you answer my text?”

  She slid her silver purse off her arm and pulled her phone out. “This piece of junk needs a new battery, and I haven’t had time to go get one. It died last night. I didn’t even see your text until this morning, and by then, I figured it’d be better to talk in person.”

  The shock of all this was beginning to simmer down, but my head still spun. “Would you like to sit down? I can get us a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  She got comfortable, kicking off her high heel shoes and curling her legs up underneath her as she sat on the couch. I popped open the bottle of wine she’d brought and poured both of us a glass. Then I joined her on the couch.

  Mickey took a few sips of her wine and gazed into her glass. I waited, allowing her a moment to enjoy her drink. She finally looked up at me, her eyes glistening with tears. My heartbeat quickened at this show of vulnerability.

  “My family disowned me when I was a teenager. That’s the short version. It’s been rough, even after ten years. Christmas is the worst. I don’t want to seem like a charity case to anyone, so I often spend the holidays alone. I tell people I have plans, but I never do. The last two Christmases I’ve just hung out at the bar, even though we were closed. It was just me, some drinks, and the jukebox. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed; Christmas always makes me think of my family. I think back to when I was a kid, waking up on Christmas morning and running downstairs to open presents under the tree. It feels like a different life.” She shook her head. “I’m not ashamed that I chose to openly live my truth, but I have a lot of pride, and I refuse to be taken on as a charity case.”

  “You are not a charity case,” I said. “I asked you here because I’m infatuated with you, and I selfishly wanted to spend more time with you, not because I felt bad for you. I hated to think that you were going to spend Christmas alone, but I wouldn’t invite any random person over to my home after only knowing them a day. Mickey, I feel like we genuinely connected, like it was a twist of fate.”

  She nodded. As she closed her eyes, two tears spilled down her cheeks. I reached out and placed a hand on her back, rubbing it gently as she finished her glass of wine in silence. When she looked up, she smiled at me.

  “I can feel that you mean it,” she said. “That’s why I came. I’m glad to be here, in your home, with you. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I placed my hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for coming.”

  She squeezed back, but then her gaze shifted to the window, her demeanor brightening. “Is that snow?”

  I looked, and sure enough, the icy rain from before had transformed into an unexpectedly beautiful snowfall. She got up and walked to the window, and I followed her. I pulled back the curtains so we could see it more clearly.

  “A Texas anomaly,” she said. “An actual White Christmas.”

  “This day is just full of surprises,” I said, my heart full to bursting.

  In a moment of bravery, I slipped my hand around her waist. She did the same, and we watched the snow together, sharing the rare moment.

  After a few minutes, she left my side to make her way to my stereo system. She turned up the volume on the classic Christmas music station I’d been listening to. Then, standing in the middle of the living room, barefoot on the plush area rug, she opened her arms.

  “Care to dance?” she asked.

  “I’d love to,” I said.

  I joined her, letting her lead. We swayed to the music, and more than ever before, I grew intoxicated just being with her. I couldn’t wait to see what kind of magic the rest of the evening held for us. It was already a Christmas I would never forget. But just as I knew Mickey and I had one of those unexplainable, special connections, I also had a hunch the night would only get better from here.

  The snow continued to fall outside. As she pulled me close, the heat of her body warming mine, I whispered, “Merry Christmas” before her smiling lips met mine.

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Scarlett Knight is a bisexual author of various blends of erotic fiction, romance, and sci-fi/fantasy. For Knight, writing erotica is more than just sex. It's about showing the connection between two people, mind, body, and soul. Her tales may be steamy, but they also provide readers a rich, emotionally satisfying escape.

  In addition to writing, some of her personal interests include art, music, books, theatre, films, travel, cuisine, and eroticism. She currently resides in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex with her husband and dachshund.

  PAINTED HEARTS PUBLISHING

  Painted Hearts Publishing has an exclusive group of talented writers. We publish stories that range from historical to fantasy, sci-fi to contemporary, erotic to sweet. Our authors present high quality stories full of romance, desire, and sometimes graphic moments that are both entertaining and sensual. At the heart of all our stories is romance, and we are firm believers in a world where happily ever afters do exist.

  We invite you to visit us at www.paintedheartspublishing.com.