Wicked Christmas Nights. Leslie Kelly
when they’d met. Talk about not putting on some kind of nice-girl act. Was it any wonder he already liked her so much?
“Okay, Mount Doom, here we come,” she said, taking his hand.
It was cold out—very cold—yet neither of them wore gloves. His were tucked in his pocket, and he knew she had some, too, since she’d worn them when they’d first left the coffee shop. But neither of them had put them on once they’d left her ex’s place…once she’d taken his hand. Her fingers were icy cold, and he suspected his were too. But it was worth it.
Slowly making their way through the crowds outside, they ventured into the hell that was called a toy store the day before Christmas Eve. The moment they entered, they were assaulted with heat and noise and color. Any kid would have thought they’d entered wonderland—the whole place was set up to inspire thoughts of childhood fantasy. Well, if your fantasy included being pressed jaw-to-jaw with strangers. Oh, and getting into the spirit of the season by elbowing each other to get closer to the front of the long lines at the cashier stations.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she said when she realized it was worse than she’d predicted. Not a square foot of floor space seemed to be unoccupied. The merriment from outside hadn’t worked its way in here. These people were shopping like they were on a mission: Nobody gets between me and my Bratz dolls.
“I think we’ve just entered shark-infested waters,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the loud music and the general thrum of too many people packed in too small a space.
“Stick close to me, minnow.”
“Gotcha, big white. But please tell me this dinosaur you’re looking for isn’t the hottest toy of the season.”
“Nah, that’s the Suzy Pees Herself and Drives a Monster Truck doll.”
“My kind of girl. Uh, other than the peeing herself part.”
“Whew!”
Finally, after one too many stomps on her foot, Lucy reminded him she wasn’t the one shopping. She ducked into a corner and waved him off. Every time he caught sight of her, watching the hysteria that surrounded her, he noted the expression on her face—amusement, yes. But also, he suspected, relief that she didn’t have to actually be a part of this.
Maybe one day she’d want to. One day when she didn’t have just her brother, and a single broken gift to look forward to for the upcoming holiday weekend.
And me.
Ross was reaching around a glowering man—who was arguing with a sharp-tongued woman over what was apparently the last Barbie doll in Manhattan—when that realization struck him. He was here, alone, with plans to do nothing more than eat Chinese food and watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation this weekend. And Lucy was going to be here alone, too.
His mind didn’t go where it might have gone a year or two ago, when he’d been more focused on what happened at the end of a date with a girl than during it. He didn’t immediately picture the two of them naked under the mistletoe.
Well, it wasn’t the only thing he pictured when he thought about spending Christmas with her. But mainly, he thought about seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, touching her soft skin and that amazing hair. Even if they spent the weekend pretending Christmas didn’t exist, he really wanted to spend it with her.
After some hunting, Ross found the Robo-Raptor toy he’d been seeking. The thing was expensive, but, considering it would likely be late, he wasn’t going to quibble over the cost.
Grabbing it, he made his way back to Lucy, finding her not too far from where he’d left her. She stood by herself, having found another quiet corner, and was gazing at a display in the games area. A huge Candyland display, with nearly life-size gingerbread men game pieces and tons of pink fluff that looked like cotton candy.
Lucy’s expression was definitely wistful. As he watched from several feet away, she reached out and touched a large fairy-type doll—he couldn’t remember the name, it had been a long time since his board game days. Her hand shook slightly, but the touch on the pale blue hair was tender. Sweet. As if she were reaching out and stroking the gossamer wings of a beautiful memory that flitted in her subconscious. Having noticed the hint of moisture in her eyes, he suspected she was.
As he approached, he noticed her reach up and swipe at her face with her fingertips, confirming that moisture had begun to drip. Ross dropped a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”
She nodded. Her voice low, she explained, “This is so pretty. I loved this game as a kid.”
“I was more of a Chutes and Ladders fan, myself.”
She barely smiled, and he regretted making light of it when something was on her mind.
As if knowing he was curious, she admitted, “I used to beg my mother to play with me all the time. She ran the business with my Dad, and had more time at home than a lot of moms, so I assumed that meant she was mine 24/7.”
“I think every kid feels that about their mom.”
“Well, I was pretty relentless, and eventually we had to start negotiating. ‘Just let me finish this paperwork, and I promise we’ll play one game of Candyland.’”
“Kinda like how my parents negotiated with me—eat one more green bean and you can have ice cream after dinner.”
She nodded. “Exactly. I outgrew the game, of course, but one day when I was older, it occurred to me that every time we had played, I would always get the Queen Frostine card within the first couple of hands. So I always won.”
He glanced at the board on display, seeing how close that particular character was to the winning space, and smiled slightly. “Quickly.”
She laughed. “Exactly. I was a world champion Candy-lander. My mom was a world champion cheater for fixing the deck so I’d get that card and win the game super-fast every time.”
“Did you confront her about it?”
“Uh-huh. When I was eleven or twelve.” Her laughter deepened. “She totally confessed, saying she’d never break a promise to me, and always played when she said she would. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t speed up the process a little.”
Her eyes, which had been sparkling with tears a few minutes ago, now gleamed with amusement. The warmth of the good memory had washed away, at least temporarily, whatever sadness she’d been feeling.
“I miss her a lot,” she admitted simply. “My dad, too. It’ll be five years Tuesday.”
He sucked in a surprised breath. She’d lost both parents, together, which could only mean some kind of tragedy. And just two days after Christmas…No wonder she’d just rather skip over the whole holiday season. Talk about mixing up happy thoughts with sad ones. “I’m so sorry, Lucy.”
“Me, too.” She glanced around the crowded store. “I guess you’ve figured out that’s why I’m not a big fan of the season.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s why my brother and I have unconventional holidays.”
But this year, she’d already told him, she wouldn’t be seeing her brother. And her roommate was going away. She would be entirely alone, surrounded by a merry world while she sunk deeper into memories of the past.
Not if he could help it. She wanted unconventional? Fine. One good way to start—how about Christmas with a near-stranger?
He lifted a hand to her face and brushed his fingertips across her cheek. “Well then, how about we make a deal? I promise not to sing any carols or serve you any eggnog…if you promise to spend this holiday weekend with me.”
A FEW HOURS later, after having shopped a little more and laughed a lot more, they grabbed some dinner, then headed back toward Lucy’s place. The tiny apartment she shared