The Holiday Mixtape, page 18
“Why?”
“Jonesborough cancelled. Said the weather’s too risky for this away game for them. They’re not chancing getting the bus up here.”
“Dang, I was ready to kick their asses.” He trudges toward the lockers.
“You will next semester. We’ll reschedule.”
I dribble —jump—bank shot.
The corners of my mouth rise to gloat. Now Erika doesn’t have a date this Friday.
Helen missed our FaceTime tonight. I let her. We talked this morning—more than enough.
I’m lying flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, cutting my eyes at the bedside clock. 11:00 p.m. Erika never reached out, and neither did I. Maybe we both need a break.
I haven’t slept since I left that cave. Drawn to her? Fuck, yes. Too much. But I don’t understand the rest of it. A kaleidoscope of thoughts, made up of blue eyes, lip curling smirks and long dark waves invade my mind. Over a fire truck and a town Christmas festival? I’m sure that’s all this is.
We got too close hanging out every day trying to make the holidays happen in Blitzen. The town absorbs her. I absorbed her. If it wasn’t for the fundraisers, she’d just be Josephine’s hot niece that came to visit who hit me with her car. We would never have gotten this close. Are we… close?
It’s her fucking innocence that has me so damn curious. No, hell, no—She’s not all that innocent. She’s a woman who knows exactly what she wants. That’s what intrigues me. But still, she’s… I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it. She’s wicked smart, but then so genuine and trusting of other people—strangers even. She’s curved like a fucking walking hourglass but makes me wonder if she knows it. She doesn’t realize how hot she is. What does that say about her?
She’s also climbing the ladder at her ad agency in Chicago, so the appeal of Blitzen, other than a fun escape provided by her great aunt, is beyond me. What she’s done here, organizing, pulling this festival together, it’s—she’s moved mountains.
I’m pretty fucking happy right here. I chose to stay in small town Kentucky, and I had my share of other offers. I don’t need to earn three figures a year to be happy. Different strokes for different folks. I’m just not clear on what hers are.
I knew last night—both of us wanted it. She was so warm against me. The dark cold cave had nothing on the heat between us when I wrapped my arms around her. I wanted to rip that coat off of her, get my hands under that sweater—
Stop it, McClain!
If you go there you might not want to come back. And you made up your mind, once was enough.
This will pass.
I roll onto my side. Tomorrow’s another day. And I need to be at the gym early. Be damned if I’ll make a fool out of myself in front of Jamarcus and the rest of the world.
twenty-one
Four Wheel Drive
It’s after five o’clock on day two. I’ve heard nothing from Kourt, and I haven’t reached out, per our norm, to schedule a ride, either. Coincidentally, my mixtape has also been completely out of commission and refuses to play.
Blitzen’s Old-Fashioned Christmas, however, is well underway.
Hot chocolate vendors, hand-blown glass ornaments, and gingerbread decorating booths are all arriving at their allotted times. Multiple candy confectioners and Christmas cookie concessions have signed up for both weekends and select weeknights, and all the events are scheduled.
We have enough activities and attractions to draw the crowd the Fisher’s brochure promised from now until Christmas. I even have extra Charles Dicken’s-style carolers to make multiple sets for switching out, so we always have music.
A few local churches have agreed to bake Christmas cookies, supply jams and holiday quilts to set up booths to fill in any gaps. We’re really coming along.
What feels the most special? The right here right now of it all. The Christmas I’ve been missing the past couple of years. This is what I came here for. This is what I needed.
I look up to the left of my big black notebook and see June orchestrating the orange cones and blockades for setting up parking. She even has a little red ribbon tied around her silver ponytail today.
The young couple who gave me the stink eye at the meeting waves from a distance as they help the Lions Club unload boxes of turkeys for smoking. People will buy those like hot cakes to save for Christmas dinner when they smell them smoking next to the hot chocolate they buy to sip. I even convinced them to sell a few turkey legs as a concession for people to eat as they walk and enjoy.
My heart feels as warm as the patch of sun hitting my face as it threatens to go down the mountain.
A tap on my shoulder has me spinning into a familiar face. This time her blazer is dark hunter green and up close she’s more divine than I remember.
“Erika, the young trespasser responsible for all of this—”
I smile at Judge Pritchard.
She winks back at me. “I believe this has your name written all over it too, and I’ve been tasked to determine where to put the monstrosity. Care to help?” Her voice sounds like one of the characters from Steel Magnolias as she shoves a telegram-looking purchase order in front of me and reads: “Go big or go home, Erika with a K, everything’s a sign. Trust your gut. You got this. Merry Christmas, Arch.” The bottom of the invoice is stamped paid next to a City Ice Rental logo.
“Oh my God!” I can’t believe he did this.
“Yes, darlin’ and now that something has frozen over, where the hell are we going to put it?” The judge smiles brightly at me, as if it’s a grand problem to have, and I know I’ve impressed her.
“Umm. Let me go grab June. She’ll have an idea.”
“You do that, honey. I don’t run in heels, not even from something this big.”
I turn and face the largest structure I’ve seen in any Chicago neighborhood. Archer must have rented the biggest one they had available for Blitzen. Tears fill my eyes, and I have to catch my breath to take it all in.
A large truck engine pulls by beside me with a sound I’d recognize anywhere. High school basketball players pop out with food drive boxes and run into the local downtown shops behind me.
Kourt rolls his window down. “So, you found a way to ice skate after all.” He marvels at the large rink they’re unloading in front of town square.
“Something like that.” I do good to turn and squint out a half smile.
“I swung by before practice today to check in and see if you needed a ride.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You weren’t there.”
“Duty called. Guess I’d already left.”
“I can see.” Kourt pauses a moment, as if he’s not sure what to say. I keep my eyes on the prize ahead. My ice rink.
“I need to return your items to you.”
I bite my bottom lip, then turn back around to face him. “Oh, thank God. It’s the only bra and pair of panties I own. It’s been dreadful going without.” I say it loud using the excuse of trying to talk over the running engine.
Kourt looks left and right, then back at me with wild eyes and a crooked smile as if surprised by my wit. It’s about to be game on, only I don’t give him time to play. I see June coming toward me and I beeline to her without looking back.
“You can just toss ’em,” I say over my shoulder as I rush toward June, putting as much space between Kourt and I as possible.
He kills the engine.
Damn.
And his truck door slams behind me.
“Kourt McClain! You two have the nerve to go skinny dipping at Blitzen Manor and don’t bother to invite me?” The Judge is loud. Really loud as she sashays over to Kourt, and I tense as all of Blitzen’s eyes are on us.
“I’m pretty sure your dogs were invited, Judge.” Kourt’s voice is much closer to me than I anticipated as he yells behind me across town square.
“They do love a good swim,” Judge Prichard shoots back. “Now get over here and help June and your girl with this ice rink. I’ve got a hunt to get to.” She waves in my peripheral vision, and I continue my walk toward June.
“You thought you were off the hook.” His hot breath brushes the side of my neck before I realize he’s caught up to me.
Chills trail up and down my body and my entire center fills with heat.
“You want me to toss them, eh? Does that mean I get to keep them?”
My lashes shoot up to my eyebrows like rockets.
“Blue’s my favorite color.” He persists.
“I didn’t take you for a lace guy under your basketball jersey, but whatever gets you through the day.”
“Walk.” He demands as he pokes my lower back with his fingertips, stepping us both toward a smiling June.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen the woman smile this big.
“Isn’t it incredible, Kourt?” June beams up at him.
“Just like the old days,” he says, as he takes in all the new things added.
“Better. Kourt. It’s better than it’s ever been.” June steps forward and squeezes my hand. “I have a surprise for you, our Erika of Blitzen. It’s on my property, and will be requiring an extra pair of hands, and an additional truck.”
She nods at Kourt as if that signs him up.
“Mine won’t make but a small dent of a load. And we’ve got a trailer and a hitch we can also use. You just let me know if you’ve got some time tomorrow or the next day to swing by.”
“June, you had me at surprise and trailer hitch. I’ll call you first thing tomorrow.” Shocked as I am, I look her in the eye, acknowledging the feeling is mutual and I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished together.
“You were right about this one, Kourt. She’s magic.”
June smiles at us before releasing my hand and all but twirling away.
Who was that woman? That is not the same person who reluctantly let me hang Christmas lights that first day.
“Magic, huh?” I look up at Kourt.
“I didn’t tell her what kind.”
I step away and he follows.
What’s happening? I thought I couldn’t be mad at the town widower, and I was resolved to make nice and keep my distance.
“Guess you’ll be in need of a truck.”
“Oh. Absolutely. Look around the parking lot. Everyone and their mother drives a pickup truck. I don’t foresee it to be a problem.”
“I leave you alone for a day and you’ve got the entire town eating out of your hand.”
“Two days. Is that what you were doing, Kourt? Leaving me alone?” I turn to walk away from him.
“Erika, wait.”
My phone rings and I make a show of answering it, so I don’t have to look back or even come back to the conversation.
Just. Go back to your can drive, Kourt.
“Helen, I think—no, I know this is a horrible idea.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake Erika. We’re already here. You have to come in, or I won’t hear the end of it. They called me twice at work today to make sure I asked you, and again after they saw you at the hardware store.”
“Buying a back up generator for the ice rink, not soliciting to impose on your best friend’s former in-laws, or the parents of your deceased other best friend.”
“Don’t put this on me. You walked right into their invitation.”
“That’s because I had no concept of what they were inviting me to, because you didn’t tell me, either.”
“Well, I’m telling you now, my plus one, and if you of all people, Miss Christmas, can’t stand up straight and walk in for their holiday-themed take-out dinner of a good time, I will never forgive you. I don’t pretend to know what’s going on with you and McShotty and I’m not sure I want to know. I left the playground back at Blitzen Elementary, so you guys can have it.”
“Thanks, Helen. And I assure you—there’s nothing going on.”
And I can’t imagine there will ever be after this.
I feel like Helen and I are having our first tiff. Or at least we’re grating on each other’s nerves.
“I didn’t ask to be invited anywhere, especially if it feels like I’m going to ambush the very person I’m trying to avoid.”
“No. You just asked if you could decorate an entire town for Christmas—” We both look at each other and burst out laughing.
“And rightfully so, my friend. I must say you’re doing a stunning job of it.” Helen hugs me tightly as if to apologize. Her tiny frame crashing into me with all her might, choking me with her collarbone and perfume.
She doesn’t owe me an apology. She’s been nothing but good to me.
This has to be hard on her too. She works full-time, back and forth sometimes when she goes into the city. She’s kindly become fast friends with me as Josie’s ward, but she belongs to Kourt. He’s her best friend. And even this bizarre monthly dinner they both attend at his former in-laws’ house has got to be hard on her, because it is, yet again, about Kourt and their daughter.
Then here I go with my Blitzen Christmas and not wanting to be awkward around Kourt, making it all about me.
“I’m sorry Helen. I’ll be a good sport. They’re incredibly sweet people. I hate that I complained.”
“Woah. You just graduated to Blitzen Junior High with that attitude adjustment.” She winks and rings the doorbell. My eyes drift behind us to Kourt’s truck parked in their drive and back to the door as I squeeze the container of cookies I brought.
“They did a lot for Blitzen Christmas back in the day. They may offer some help or sound advice.” Helen raises her fist to knock, and the door opens before she can.
Kourt’s gaze shuffles between us and lands apologetically on mine.
“Helen? Is that you and the darling that’s saving Christmas?” A woman’s voice rings out from the kitchen as Helen pushes past Kourt into the living room.
“I’m sorry,” he mouths silently to me.
He’s sorry? I’m the one who looks like a stalker slash intruder.
I’ve never laughed so hard in my life at a snack table by the Christmas tree with anyone’s parents. These people are top notch and pure Blitzen. Helen and Kourt didn’t have to go out of their way to make me feel comfortable here. They have so much fun with Bob and Georgia that it all naturally fell into place. Helen is right. Georgia has a lot to do with committees that can help with the big Christmas Eve tree lighting ceremony. She’s volunteered her time as well as outdoor ornaments she had Kourt box up from the attic for the town square tree.
Heading down the attic stairs with the last box of Georgia’s ornaments, I make a detour of the formal hallway instead of cutting through the dining room and knocking my hand on the dining table again.
I stop in my tracks when the photograph on the wall stuns me to my core.
It’s Angie. Blonde hair, graduation picture. The box in my arms voluntarily rests on the entry table below the portrait as I give the photo more attention.
“They say the hardest thing in the world is for a parent to lose a child.” Bob steps quietly behind me. His hands in his pockets and a calm smile secures his face.
“She’s beautiful,” I say carefully.
He smiles at me. “Things don’t seem to mean as much anymore, after that. Kourt means a lot to us, and Helen, too. You seem to matter a great deal to them, and all of Blitzen. Georgia and I will never win the race, but we have small victories here and there. Takeout with this bunch, watching Blitzen reacquainted with all it’s Christmas splendor. It’s the little things that keep one going. They do mean something, and just because this picture means so much to me and Georgia, I would hate to see it haunt you during your time in Blitzen—no matter how long that might be. For what it’s worth, Georgia and I hope it’s a very long time, and you are always more than welcome in our home, if not expected.”
I leap for Bob, embracing him in an overwhelming hug as he catches my ornament box from falling off the table.
Is this hug inappropriate like most everything I do?
Absolutely.
But does he begrudge me? No, he does not. Bob’s eyes dance with something like pride and genuine kindness as I pull away from my attack, speechless and teary-eyed.
Anchoring the box in my arms, I step off the porch into their yard. Kourt looks up from closing his tailgate. There’s a curious expression I don’t recognize in his eyes as his gaze searches mine for answers.
I turn away before I attempt to solve the equation and head to my Bug—grateful. I’ve had another beautiful day in Blitzen, and strangers who have become friends have given to the cause, and not just Blitzen’s—my selfish cause of wanting to have an old-fashioned Christmas here.
That’s all I need today.
twenty-two
Poinsettia Poison
Two loud honks shake me from my sleep. I rise to peek out the window and find Kourt’s truck waiting in the carport, followed by a knock at the door. I’m not even dressed. I rush down as decent as possible and open the door.
“What are you doing here?”
“June’s orders.”
“Oh, bullshit.”
“What did you say to me?”
“I said fish sticks,” I correct as I shoot him the finger and turn from the door, holding my robe closed.
My satin robe is on the very short side but should conceal that I’m solely sporting panties and a vintage silk camisole I found in Aunt Josie’s things. “Don’t you coach or teach or something?”
“Faculty day. There’s always one the week we get out for the holidays, and this year all of Blitzen faculty has been asked to help with the Christmas festivities on our admin day.”
“How lucky for Blitzen.” I fake a charming smile.
“I brought breakfast.” Kourt sets down a tray of to-go orange juice, cranberry muffins and two hot beverages.
“I see that,” I say as I watch him maneuver uninvited in my Aunt Josie’s kitchen. “I have to get dressed.”
“I see that.” He looks me up and down and cocks a crooked smile. “It’s cold out, where are your flannels?”
