Checking Holly Twice, page 3
Now, as we drove down the two-lane highway toward our family farm, the kids were in the back seat chattering away to Holly about our cat, who we’d thought was a boy, having a litter of kittens.
“How many are there?” Holly asked.
“Eight. One died.” Ruby said this stoically as if the poor mite’s death hadn’t caused more than a few tears. My niece was sensitive and so tenderhearted that I worried about her future. The world wasn’t made for people like her.
Dane leaned forward as much as his seat belt would allow to talk to Holly. “Specifically, there are two black-and-white striped, two tuxedos, one white-and-orange striped, one just orange, one total white, and a striped grey one.”
“Uncle Forest doesn’t know how we’re going to get rid of them.” Ruby shook her head sadly. “But I wish we didn’t have to.”
“We’ll find good homes for them,” I said. I’d made the mistake of muttering something within earshot of my niece and nephew about more money from vet bills and how we’d never get rid of all the kittens. I’d found Ruby crying in her room, worried I was going to put them in a bag with rocks like some story she’d heard at school. I was a harried, grouchy mess half the time, but I wasn’t cruel. Even I could see how cute the little pests were. Especially the orange one. And the all-white one, too. The two tuxedos had the cutest personalities. Never mind, I couldn’t take more than a few and they’d better earn their keep by killing the mice and rats that liked to take refuge in my barn.
“Are you really on television?” Dane asked.
“Yeah,” Holly said. “I was hoping no one would find out I was here.”
“Why?” Ruby asked.
“I’m tired of being chased.” Holly sighed and looked out the window.
“Chased? Who’s chasing you?” Ruby asked. “I hate being chased. There’s a boy at school who chases me every recess and says he’s going to kiss me.”
“Gross,” Dane said.
I glanced over at Holly, who had seemed to shrink into her corner of the truck at the mention of her career. Was she running from something? Someone?
“Have you ever seen her in the movies, Uncle Forest?” Dane asked.
“Can’t say I have, no. I’m not much of a movie guy.” I had no idea who she was and didn’t care. Yes, she was a stunner in the looks department with all that shiny hair, those big brown eyes, and her obviously fit body. I could see how she’d be on television or whatever. She had the bone structure of a bird I could crush in my hands, though. Her choice of attire in this kind of weather—skinny jeans, high heels, and a light sweater—didn’t indicate a keen intelligence.
“Do you have a jacket?” I asked.
“In my suitcase. It may not be enough for here, though. Like I said earlier, this wasn’t really in my plan.”
“What was your plan?”
“I didn’t really have one, other than to drive north,” she said.
A dart of pain throbbed in my right eye. This woman was a pain in my rear already. Who drove north with no plan? Still, there was a part of me that felt sorry for her too. She had a vulnerability that reminded me of my sister and mother. They’d been kindhearted and empathetic, which made them susceptible to those with less-than-honorable intentions. Mom had taken in any stranger who needed a home and a home-cooked meal. My sister had been the same way. I’d breathed easier when she married Marc. He’d been a heck of a man. The kind you wish for your little sister. Then they’d been taken from me and the kids. Mom had been gone for a few years by then already, or their deaths would have killed her. My dad died when I was in college. That left me and the munchkins. Sadly for them, they’d been left with the very worst person in the family. The one least likely to raise nice kids.
I’d been in Vancouver working for an accounting firm when I’d gotten the call. The phone call no one ever wanted. My sister, Laney, and her husband Marc had been killed in a car accident when a semi-truck had slid into their lane on the highway. There was no one but me to take the kids. So I came home and did what had to be done.
My sister and Marc had completely gutted and remodeled our family farmhouse to make it into an inn. They’d had plans for the whole place. A tourist trap with horse-drawn sleigh rides, hot chocolate around the firepit, and then retiring to one of the cozy rooms afterward. What I hadn’t known was the second mortgage they took against the house to pay for all of it. Add a huge mortgage, utilities, the cost of feeding and clothing children, and some hospital bills in there from my niece’s troubled birth, and you got one broke former accountant. Besides my bookkeeping and accounting clients, I’d taken a job on Friday and Saturday nights at the Twisted Tinsel as a bartender to try to make ends meet. Mrs. Knight, my mother’s best friend and our closest neighbor, stayed with the kids those nights. If it weren’t for her, I don’t know where we’d be.
“Why don’t you like movies?” Holly asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I don’t dislike them, really. I don’t have time for them.”
“Uncle Forest has a lot to do around the place plus two jobs, and he just falls into bed at night,” Ruby said.
“We hear him snoring sometimes before we even fall asleep,” Dane said.
Way to spill all the family secrets, I thought.
“Good for you,” Holly said to me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, almost growling. “I’m broke and can’t afford to hire enough staff to help me run the place so I have to do everything myself. I’m so tired most nights I can barely shove dinner in my face. Is that what’s good for me?”
“I meant being able to fall asleep easily.” She turned back toward the window, but not before I saw the hurt in her eyes.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it.”
The children had gone silent. I’d scared them with my loud, gruff speech. Man, I was a jerk. I used to be fun, back in the day. In the time before I inherited the weight of the world.
“What room should we give Holly?” I asked, hoping to change the mood.
“The one with the flower quilt.” Ruby shot one of her sweet smiles Holly’s way. “That’s the one you’ll like best, I just know it.”
Holly returned her smile. “I’m sure I will.”
We turned into my driveway. The snow had stopped as we headed out of town. Several inches had accumulated, covering everything in a pristine white. We’d been in town to buy groceries for our holiday meals. Thinking of cooking a Christmas dinner worthy of the kids made me tired. I should have just ordered a meal from our local grocery store as I’d always done before. However, Ruby had begged me to cook this year. Even though she was only six, she wanted to learn how to make a proper dinner as she’d seen in one of her picture books. I couldn’t resist my niece’s pleas. She was such a good child, never asking for much and seeming to know, in the way my sister and mother had, just what I needed. Too bad she was stuck with me.
Dane, too, was the best kid, always pitching in on whatever chores he could. At eight years old, he couldn’t do a lot, but he made sure the chickens were fed and the eggs collected every day. He was my little scholar, too. His teacher had told me he was gifted mentally and physically and that I should enroll him in as many extracurricular academic and sports activities as I could. Good luck with that, I’d thought.
“Is there cell coverage out here?” Holly asked, looking at her phone.
“No. Internet’s sketchy, but we have it inside the house.” Just wait for it, I thought. Here it comes. The city girl will freak out at the thought of being without her stupid phone twenty-four hours a day. What did they look at all day, anyway? I saw them in town, gaping at the screen, and wanted to shout to them to get a job.
“No television. No internet. No phone,” Holly said under her breath. “Perfect.”
“Hey, if you don’t want to stay here with us, no problem. I can take you back to town and let you fend for yourself.”
She turned to me, her brown eyes flashing. “You make a lot of assumptions, you know that?”
“I call it like I see it.”
“Oh, really? Well, for your information, I wasn’t being sarcastic. No news or internet and a dead phone is a dream come true. Just the vacation I was looking for.”
Her vehement and slightly hostile expression told me she was telling the truth. She was obviously checking out for the holidays. Or was she a fugitive?
“You’re not a criminal, are you?” I asked quietly.
She barked out a bitter-sounding laugh. “A criminal? Good one. I’m a famous actress who was just publicly humiliated by my fiancé.”
That sounded like a story. Appalled at my curiosity, I simply nodded. “Good to know.”
She shot me a dark look. Good. If she didn’t like me she wouldn’t be hanging around downstairs all day when I had things to do.
I pulled up to the house. The day was already darkening, and the lights I’d managed to string around our front porch twinkled. Inside, I could make out the silhouette of our yet-to-be-decorated Christmas tree. Another thing to do today.
“You guys take Ms. Turner in and show her the room, okay?” I said before shutting off my truck. “I’ll bring everything inside.”
“Will do,” Dane said.
Holly wobbled in her high heels through the dusting of snow as she walked toward the house with a child on each side. When she almost slipped, Dane put his hand out to steady her.
“Here, take our hands,” Ruby said.
“We won’t let you fall,” Dane said.
“Thanks, guys.”
My eyes stung as she took each of their hands and they made their way toward the porch. Why, I couldn’t say. I didn’t even like this lady. She was nice to my kids, I’d give her that. They’d obviously taken to her because she was so pretty. Whatever. She was a guest. In and out. No reason to give her any energy whatsoever.
If only I knew what and how to feed her. She looked as though she could use a good meal. The forecast had called for more snow starting late this afternoon. Until they plowed the roads, we wouldn’t be getting out of here. I hoped I’d gotten what I needed for a few days of decent meals. If only I had someone to cook them.
I took the groceries in through the back door to the kitchen. I’d have to unload them after I got the suitcases. When I switched the lights on, the radio came on with a country singer crooning “Jingle Bell Rock.” I’d loved that song as a kid. Dammit, I needed to put the scrooge aside and make this Christmas good for the kids. It would most likely be our last one in this house.
I’d really hoped for guests to fill the rooms, but after the bad reviews, that dream had pretty much died. I could still see them when I closed my eyes at night.
Nice house but the food was TERRIBLE. In all caps as if lower-case didn’t convey their displeasure clearly enough. Another had called the breakfast inedible. The second-to-worst one described in great detail the time I’d caught my apron on fire. It’s not as if anyone but me was in danger. The very worst one was the accusation of food poisoning from the shrimp cocktail I’d served during the five o’clock wine hour.
Seriously, how did anyone make French toast so that it wasn’t soggy in the middle? And don’t even get me started on pancakes. They were impossible. How had my mother’s always been perfectly round, fluffy, and a golden tan? Mine turned out burned on the outside and raw on the inside.
It broke my heart a little to realize that Ruby’s sudden interest in cooking had arisen out of my tirade about pancakes being the devil.
So far, this Holly Turner was my only December guest. I hope she slept through breakfast. Or, even better, was the Hollywood type who didn’t eat. Maybe I’d lucked out with the perfect guest. Time would tell, I thought, as I went back to the truck for the suitcases.
Thankful for my level of fitness, I hauled Holly’s lead suitcases up to her room. I’d expected her to be there, but the room was empty. I walked out to the hallway and stood at the top of the stairs. Voices were coming from the kitchen. Right, my guest was hungry. She’d told me so. I’d need to feed her if I wanted a good review. Maybe she’d tell her rich Hollywood friends about my place? In addition to learning how to cook, I needed to start acting nicer. But damn, nice was hard for me. Especially these days. Seeing all my friends doing what they wanted and starting to enjoy financial success hurt. I was happy for them, obviously, but couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for myself. I’d thought I’d have made partner at my firm by now. I’d been valedictorian and won a huge scholarship to university. A lot of good that did me. Here I was barely thirty with two kids and an unsustainable business.
I sprinted down to the kitchen. What was this? Holly and the kids were unloading the groceries. They’d turned up the Christmas music and were singing along. Moxie had returned to her bed and had her chin resting on her paws, keeping watch of this strange turn of events. I sniffed the air. What was that smell? Cinnamon and apples? I turned to the stove. Steam rose from a pan. Hot apple cider? Who’d thought of that?
“Cider?” I asked.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Holly said. “The kids and I were cold, and I saw the cider in the fridge.”
“Um, sure.”
“Ruby tells me cooking isn’t your favorite.” Holly reached up to pull four mugs from where they hung from hooks. “Would you mind if I helped? It’s Christmas Eve. We could have a nice meal.”
“You cook?” I raised one eyebrow, forgetting my vow to be nice.
“Cooking happens to be one of my only skills besides acting,” Holly said.
“I only bought enough for tomorrow’s dinner. A turkey and some other stuff.”
“I was telling the kids pasta and homemade meatballs is one of my favorite things to have on Christmas Eve. I could make that for us—if you’d like?”
“Oh, do we have what we need for meatballs?” I asked.
“Yes, Uncle Forest,” Ruby said, jumping up and down. “Holly already found everything she needs in the pantry.”
“She’s going to make sauce and everything,” Dane said.
“And cookies.” Ruby squealed. “Lots and lots of cookies.”
“Are you sure?” I asked Holly. “You’re supposed to be our guest.”
“Honestly, I can’t think of anything better than hanging out in this gorgeous kitchen with my new friends. The house is beautiful. I love everything about it. The colors, the dark trim with the light walls, and how everything’s elegant but cozy too. And this kitchen.” She swept her hand through the air as if presenting an award.
I warmed with pleasure at the compliments about the house. Even though my money problems were foremost in my mind, I had to admit my sister had done a remarkable job on the remodel. Her aesthetics were everywhere from the light granite countertops and kitchen island to the wide-planked, dark-stained floors. A formal dining room just off the kitchen had a long table for all the guests they’d expected. Mostly it was empty, but tonight we would eat there instead of here in the kitchen.
“Do you want to see our room sometime?” Ruby asked.
“I would love to. Do you share one?”
“We like it that way,” Ruby said. “Right, Dane?”
One of Dane’s eyebrows quivered but he answered in the affirmative. He’d asked more than once for his own room, but thus far I’d said no. My hope had been that guests would fill up the five bedrooms not occupied by one of us. If Dane only knew what we faced he’d know how good he had it. An apartment in town with two bedrooms if we were lucky and a kitchen the size of our current mudroom. He would know soon enough.
Holly blew on her hot cider. The steam danced merrily. “I’d have loved a brother or sister to share with when I was a kid. You two are very lucky.” She smiled at them in turn. Nice mouth. Especially puckered up or in a smile. Too bad I was who I was. The younger me might have had the nerve to hit on her. Not now. That guy seemed like from another lifetime.
Dane and Ruby beamed back at Holly. My heart ached to see how happy they looked. They deserved so much more than I could give them. They needed a mother. Mrs. Knight did what she could, but she was older and didn’t have the energy of a younger woman. By the time I came home at night from my bar shift, the poor lady was always asleep in the recliner as if they’d put her through the wringer.
“Uncle Forest, can she cook for us?” Ruby asked. “I could help.”
“I’d really like to,” Holly said.
“Well, then, knock yourself out.” I rested my hands against the kitchen island. “I’ve got some things to do before it gets dark.”
“Can we take Holly to see the kittens?” Dane said. “We gave Moxie more food and water.”
“Thanks for taking care of Moxie.” Boots and her kittens were under the stairs in a cozy bed we’d made for her once we’d found out he was a she and expecting babies. “If Holly’s interested in the kittens, then go ahead.” Was she interested in kittens? She seemed to like kids. Or was good at pretending anyway.
“Uncle Forest, don’t forget about the tree.” Ruby fixed her eyes upon me as if I might try to run away. “We have to decorate it.”
I nodded and stifled a yawn. “Right. I’ll get the boxes down from the attic.”
“But first, have a cup of cider,” Holly said. “I’ll make us a pile of toast too. There’s nothing a pile of toast won’t solve, right?”
“I guess so,” I said. Toast? Maybe I should start serving that for breakfast and give up on the rest. I went to the pantry and came out with a fresh loaf of sourdough Mrs. Knight had brought by earlier. She brought us bread about twice a week, and it was better than anything you could find at the store. I was grateful, trust me, but hated feeling like a charity case.
