Chapter 4
“Really, mother, was prune cake necessary with eight dozen cookies?” Frannie asked as the family sat down to supper.
“The cookies are for the holiday party, Mom,” Lacy said.
“Ugh. I can feel myself getting fatter by the second,” Frannie said.
“I think you’re perfect, Frannie,” her husband added.
Lacy’s mother rolled her eyes, but didn’t comment further, much to Lacy’s relief. Maybe it was the stubborn streak in her, but when her mother got on her about her diet, it only made her want to eat more. She had always used food as an escape, and when she was a teenager she had wanted to escape her mother and sister and their constant drama. That was probably why she had been such a chubby teenager. College had been much calmer, and the weight had dropped easily. Since Robert’s abandonment and the subsequent turmoil in Lacy’s life, the battle of the bulge had become an issue once again. Now with her mother here and in such a bad mood, it was all Lacy could do not to pick up a fork and begin shoveling warm prune cake straight from the pan.
She needed to get a breather from the house or she would once again end up on the couch at three in the morning, trying to decide if the absence of PABA was a good enough reason to spend a hundred dollars on shampoo. That was why, when her grandmother hinted that they might need more confectioners sugar to finish icing the cookies, Lacy practically vaulted over the counter in her enthusiasm to volunteer for a grocery run.
“We can get it tomorrow, dear,” Lucinda said, eyeing Lacy with concern as she rubbed her shin, the one she had bashed as she was jumping for her purse.
“No, Grandma, really, I’m happy to go. Is there anything else we need? Something from the next state, perhaps? I would be happy to drive wherever you need.”
Her grandmother gave her a sympathetic smile and loving pat on the shoulder. “I think the sugar will be enough, but take your time. Maybe you could see if Pastor Underhill is available for a coffee.”
“That would be great, but this is Tosh’s busy season. He has another party tonight. I’ll get the sugar, and maybe I’ll get some coffee on my own.”
“Whatever you need, dear,” Lucinda said. With a sigh, she turned toward the counter and stared helplessly at the cookies. Mr. Middleton had gone home, probably thinking it would help ease the tension in the house. Lacy hated that he no longer felt welcome here. She had come to dearly love him, and she knew her grandmother already missed him; they had been inseparable the last few months. How ironic that the thing that should cause a wedge between them now was their daughter.
“Mom will come around, Grandma,” Lacy said, hoping she sounded convincing.
“Of course she will,” Lucinda replied, sounding equally unconvincing.
Lacy gave her a hug from behind, kissing her cheek. Lucinda smiled and rested her head against Lacy’s for a few beats. “Want to take the car?” her grandmother offered.
“Thanks, Grandma, but I’ll walk. I had two pieces of prune cake,” she added miserably, doing a mental calorie calculation.
“Lacy, don’t let Frannie get you down about your weight. You’re perfect,” her grandmother said. “You eat as much cake as you want.”
Lacy laughed. “I’m not sure my figure would remain perfect if I ate as much cake as I want, but thanks for the vote of confidence, Grandma.” She waved and left the house, breathing in the crisp winter air. It was cold, wet, and dreary, but she really did need the exercise, and the store wasn’t that far away—one of the best things about living in a small town. With every step, she felt her tension draining away. She could survive her parents’ visit. The key would be getting a daily break. Of course, getting a daily break would be easier if she had a legitimate reason to leave. With Tosh otherwise engaged, errands were her only excuse, and there were only so many times she could go to the store before her mother became suspicious.
“Are you caging the place?”
Lacy jumped, not realizing she had been walking around the store in a daze until Jason spoke. “What?” she said dumbly as she looked him up and down. How did he make jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt look so good?
“You’ve been walking back and forth with a blank expression on your face for the last few minutes. I wondered if you were planning a heist.”
“Your job is making you cynical.”
He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I became a cop because I was already cynical. It’s a chicken/egg debate, I guess. What are you doing here?”
“I came to get some sugar.”
“I’m right here,” Jason said with an exaggerated wink and cheesy leer.
“Wow, I didn’t think you could be a creepy old guy until you were at least thirty. Good job breaking the age barrier,” Lacy replied.
Jason laughed. “So what are you doing after you get your sugar?”
“Is this a pickup?” she asked.
“Depends on your answer,” he replied.
“I’m free.”
“Then, yes, it’s a pickup. Want to grab some coffee?”
She thought of her mother, lying in wait for her at her grandmother’s house. “More than anything in the world.” Lacy replied, realizing as she said it how much it was true; she had missed him. “What are you here for?” she asked, nosily peering in his basket.
“The essentials,” he said, holding out his basket for her inspection.
“Baby carrots and mixed greens are your essentials?” she asked.
“They are if you like a good salad,” he said.
“Your eating habits are bizarre,” she commented.
“This coming from the person who surrounds a prune in cake and caramel and calls it breakfast,” he said.
“You said you liked prune cake,” she reminded him.
“It was good, but I also felt like I had to do an extra hour on the treadmill to work it off,” he said.
“Why is everyone obsessed with weight today? Why can’t we just eat and enjoy our food without worrying about our bodies?”
He quirked an eyebrow at her, probably alarmed by her over the top reaction to his innocent statement. “Bad day, Red?”
She sagged in defeat, thinking they had all been bad days lately. “Yes,” she said.
He moved forward and put his arm companionably around her shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get your sugar and get out of here.”
She allowed him to lead her like an invalid to the baking section. She stepped forward and plucked a bag of powdered sugar from the shelf, hugging it close to her chest when he reached for it.
“You shouldn’t pay for my sugar,” she said.
He rolled his eyes and pried the sugar from her fingers. “Not everything has to be a fight, Lacy. What are you making with this sugar?”
“Cookies.”
“Then give me some cookies and call it even,” he said.
“All right,” she relented, although the sugar was already in his basket and he was heading toward the checkout.
“Are you like this with him?” Jason asked as he set the items on the scanner.
“Who?”
He gave her a look. “Don’t play dumb, Lacy. You know who I’m talking about; the other me—Stretch McPastor.
Lacy wouldn’t give in to her laughter, finding the jab amusing would be disloyal to Tosh. “Tosh is not that tall.”
“Please. He looks like he’s been on the rack for a week. You look ridiculous together.”
She wanted to say the same about him and the pretty blond, but it wouldn’t be true. They had looked perfect together, like something from a magazine photo shoot.
“Are you?” Jason prompted.
“Am I what?” she asked, distracted by thoughts of the blond. Who was she?
He gave an exasperated sigh. “Are you like this with him? Is everything a battle?”
“No,” she blurted before she could think about it.
“Hmm.” His expression was as neutral as his tone. She couldn’t ask him what he was thinking because t
he clerk had scanned his purchases and it was time to pay. Lacy absently grabbed the grocery sack. Jason slipped his arm around her shoulders again, leading her toward his car.
“What’s been going on in your life, Red?” he asked.
Lacy thought of all her ingested popcorn and three AM infomercials. “Oh, you know, a lot of late nights. What about you?”
“Work,” he said. “Every day. I’ve been working a lot of overtime.”
“Why? Is there that much crime at Christmas?”
“There’s a surprising amount,” he said. “But that’s not why. I always volunteer to work extra shifts over the holidays so the guys who have families can get it off.”
“Don’t you want to see your family?” she asked.
He snorted a laugh. “No.”
“What about your girlfriend?” she asked.
“What about her?” They reached his car and stopped outside the passenger door, facing each other.
“Doesn’t she want to see you?” Lacy was proud of the way she kept her voice neutral, but in case her eyes betrayed her jealousy, she kept them focused on his chest.
Jason wasn’t having any of that, though. He tipped her face up so he could see her eyes. “When I find one, I’ll ask her,” he said. His tone bordered on smugness, but Lacy was so relieved she didn’t call him on it. “There is someone I really want to see this Christmas, though,” he added, resting his hands on her hips and tipping her back so she leaned against his car.
She knew she was walking into a trap, but she couldn’t help herself. “Who?” Her palms slithered up to rest against his chest, the grocery sack dangling lifelessly from her thumb.
His lips curved into a devilish smile as he dropped his gaze to her lips. “Santa. He’s been evading me for twenty six years. I have a good feeling about this Christmas.”
Lacy slowly shook her head. “Not gonna happen, Jason. You have to be good to see Santa, and I’m pretty sure you’re on the naughty list.”
“Someone’s been spreading lies about me; I’m angelic.” An expectant hush fell as the usual tension began to bounce between them. They seemed to be waiting for something, but neither knew what. “What do you want for Christmas, Red?” Jason whispered, gently tracing his finger down her cheek.
This, Lacy thought, without the accompanying baggage and terror. “World peace,” she replied.
Jason chuckled, breaking the spell between them. “Selfless of you,” he said, opening her door and waiting until she was safely inside to close it.
Christmas Steele, A Lacy Steele Mystery Bonus Novella Page 4