Christmas, Alabama

by Susan Sands

  When the girl came back for him to sign the bill, Junior’s face reddened just a bit once he realized what Nick had done. “When did you do that, Doc?”

  “It’s my thanks to everyone for such a kind welcome. You’ve all gone out of your way to include me around here. It’ s been—nice.” Nick had wanted to do something to thank these people who’d made him feel like part of the town without trying.

  “Nonsense. It’s how people ought to act. It’s common decency,” Junior said. “Don’t do that again, you hear? I’ve got the next one.”

  “Got it.” Nick nodded.

  There was a sparkle in Rachel’s eye. Clearly she’d approved of his actions. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “We’re on for the game Thursday if you still want to go with me.”

  He pulled back to get her response. Her eyes went from a sparkle to excited. “I’m in,” she said. “I’ll finish my edits by tomorrow, so I won’t get behind. I can reschedule a few things.”

  “Great. I’ll let you know the details by tomorrow.”

  “See you tonight.”

  Their exchange didn’t go unnoticed, if the interested eyes on them were any indication.

  Nick grinned. Good. They sold it. Nobody would doubt the validity of their relationship.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rachel could smell the baked goods the moment she entered the house. Mrs. Wiggins’s shortbread made her mouth water. The pizza she’d eaten earlier for lunch was delicious, but Rachel’s sweet tooth begged for shortbread. After lunch, she’d done some errands, then gone and taken photos with Santa at one of the gift shops in town. The crowd of toddlers was growing with every shoot. The closer they got to Christmas, Rachel knew, the busier it would become.

  She tiptoed downstairs and tapped on the door that separated the upstairs apartments from Mrs. Wiggins’s personal living area.

  “Well hello, dear. Did you smell my goodies in the oven?”

  “You bet I did,” Rachel said, looking around the room, her eyes suddenly clashing with the woman’s two formerly-alive cats, as they stared, eyes, not blinking. Rachel tried not to shudder. She noted the doily-covered surroundings, topped with every kind of glass statuette imaginable. Rachel wondered if there were any real treasures buried in this hoarder’s paradise.

  “Well, of course, I made you a plate, and one for your young man. You can bring it upstairs to him when you go.”

  “But, we’re not—” Rachel tried to deny her relationship with Nick.

  “Oh, please, dear. Everybody in town is talking. I told you, it’s okay with me.”

  Which was code for, I’ve told everyone I saw about the two of you. Rachel remembered the ruse then. “Thanks, Mrs. W.” Even though she had her reasons for staying silent, Rachel hated the dishonesty. This was going to be harder to pull off for her than she thought.

  “Did you come for shortbread or did you have something else to tell me?”

  “I wanted to let you know that both Nick and I would be out of town in Atlanta for a football game Thursday and Thursday night. I’m not exactly certain what the plans are yet, but he’s invited me to the Falcons/Saints game. It’s a huge rivalry game between both our favorite teams, but it should be fun.”

  Mrs. Wiggins clapped her tiny hands together in glee. “Oh, the two of you will have such fun on a road trip together. Thank you for letting me know. I would worry, you know, if you’d been gone and hadn’t told me.”

  “I know. I wouldn’t have left town without telling you.” Mrs. Wiggins had become part of her life, and didn’t only consider the woman a landlady. She was more like family.

  “Could you please deliver this to your young man for me?” Mrs. Wiggins asked, handing Rachel a heavy paper plate laden with shortbread, and covered with aluminum foil.

  “Of course. I know Nick will be thrilled to have this. He’s a typical guy. Always hungry.”

  Rachel kissed the older woman’s cheek as she accepted her plate of goodies as well, and then made her way back upstairs.

  If she was planning to eat those, Rachel decided a run before dinner might be a good idea, and seeing how she intended to run the Snow-Shoe 5K next week, it might behoove her to work a little harder than she had been the last couple weeks on her cardiovascular conditioning. Normally, she ran almost daily in the evening. But since her new neighbor had moved in, somehow, she’d gotten out of the habit.

  As she laced up her shoes, she heard the door shut next door. A tiny thrill shot through her. That should not have happened. The anticipation of seeing Nick made her feel like a high schooler with a bad crush. If she came rushing over there now, it would seem eager of her.

  But she did make a promise to Mrs. Wiggins to give him the shortbread, didn’t she? So, Rachel couldn’t very well break it by not showing up at his door bearing goodies.

  So, after she tied the second shoe, Rachel picked up the plate from the table and locked her door, keeping only her cell phone and single key with her.

  She hesitated a second, but it was opened before she could knock. “Hey, there. Were you coming to see me?”

  “No. Someone else. Sorry, wrong apartment.” What did he expect from that question?

  “Ha. I deserved that. What do you have there?” he asked, looking more interested in what she was carrying than the carrier.

  “Mrs. Wiggins baked today, and I promised to drop this by,” she said, but still held it away from his grasp. He reached for it again, which brought him in closer contact to her body. He stopped then, and the plate lost his attention as his eyes met hers. The smolder in his gaze made her wonder if she’d made an error in judgment in that silly move.

  He grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her inside from the hallway and shut the door, taking the plate from her hand, and placing it on his tiny dining table. “I’ve been waiting all day to see you.” He then leaned down and kissed her as if he meant that statement.

  When he lifted his head, she smiled almost drunkenly. “You saw me already today.”

  “Then I’ve been waiting since the last time I saw you to do that.”

  “Oh. Okay. That was nice.”

  “Again.” He kissed her again.

  This fake kissing thing was quite a perk to their pretend dating status. It certainly made it easier to pass off as acceptable if it wasn’t the real deal or going to continue beyond January. But the desire she experienced in the process was making this far more difficult. Her thin, short, running shorts weren’t doing much as far as a barrier between her and his erection, so Rachel knew he was having similar feels.

  She pressed herself into his body and felt his response, and heard him groan. “Ah, you’re killing me.”

  “Good. Because I want this,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Are you sure?” he seemed surprised.

  “I need this.” She slipped her hands under his T-shirt.

  He cupped her rear with his hand and pressed her closer. “You feel so amazing. But I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.”

  She moaned. “No regrets. We’re full grown adults.” She pulled at his shirt.

  “Yes, we are, thank God.” He lifted his shirt over his head at her bidding.

  “I’ve been dying to see what was under the scrubs,” Rachel whispered.

  “There’s more.” He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. “So much more.”

  Rachel had never anticipated anything so much. “Show me more.”

  His bedroom was neat and clean, bed made, with a high thread-count duvet and shams. He pulled out a condom from the bedside table with a wolfish grin and tossed it on the bed as if he’d been expecting her.

  Rachel wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “How convenient.”

  “Would you rather I didn’t have one and we put this off until another day?” His deep laugh made her shiver with desire.

  “No, thank you. So glad you’re a man with a plan.” She would cry if he told her no now.

  “So, where were we?” He pull
ed her into his arms like the best scene from Gone with the Wind.

  The man had skills, she’d give him that. Not that she was super experienced, but surely those were expert moves, and Rachel was thankful the man knew his way around a woman’s body.

  Who knew she was such a screamer? She tried to stifle the sounds as she climaxed, but holy cow, nothing had prepared her for such pleasure. The lack of control scared Rachel.

  “What did you do to my body?” she asked, amazed, slicked in sweat, and totally satiated.

  He laughed out loud at her question. “I’m not quite sure. I’ve never had that loud a response before.”

  “I’m a little embarrassed. I’ve never yelled like that.”

  He appeared pleased.

  “I mean, I haven’t been with a lot of guys, but it’s never been like that.”

  “I don’t have a double standard when it comes to women enjoying sex, Rachel. I haven’t been with a lot of women either, but if you had been with your share of men, it wouldn’t make you less attractive to me.”

  “Wow, that’s very progressive of you. And unusual, especially in the South.”

  He shrugged. “I always thought it was unfair that guys thought it was okay to sleep around with everyone they could and call girls names if they had a boyfriend or two, or more.”

  “I don’t subscribe to sleeping with a bunch of random men, but it’s not my business if somebody has more sex than me. I just never felt like it was something I needed to do with people I didn’t care about.”

  “What are we doing here?” he asked, serious now. “This thing between us?”

  “Besides the obvious, I don’t know. It felt right, but I don’t know what to call us.” Rachel really didn’t know what they were doing. But she was going to give it some serious thought.

  “Do you still want to go to Atlanta with me?”

  “Are you uninviting me?” She hoped she hadn’t blown it with him by pretty much having her naughty way with him.

  “Of course not. It’s going to be a blast. No expectations, just so you know.”

  “I still want to go. And let’s just play all this one day at a time, okay? I’m not experiencing instant regret, here, so that’s good. You?”

  “Oh, hell no. No regrets.”

  They both laughed. “I was headed out for a run.”

  “Yeah. I noticed the shorts. Nice legs, by the way.”

  She pulled out a long, bare leg and held it up for his inspection.

  And they began again. Nobody went for a run.

  Nick had never had his mind blown by sex before. He’d had amazing sex, for sure, but this was different with Rachel. It was unexpected, to begin with. She was honest and open about her pleasure, for one thing. She laughed and yelled when it felt good. There wasn’t any embarrassment or manipulation with Rachel. And his body’s response to that was beyond any physical sensation he’d ever experienced.

  Now that he’d had it, Nick never wanted it any other way. Did it exist with anyone else? Anywhere else? Or only with Rachel Prudhomme in Ministry, Alabama? It was a quandary.

  They were leaving at noon for Atlanta. The game was at eight-o’clock tonight, and he’d made plans to stop by the hospital where he’d worked, before moving to Ministry, on his way into the city to pick up some personal mail and say hi to a few friends and co-workers.

  It was interesting how little communication he’d had with his familiars since leaving Atlanta. As many years as he’d spent there, and having grown up in the area, it was as if he’d dropped off the face of the earth and everyone had forgotten his existence. Out of sight, out of mind, he supposed.

  It might have bothered Nick more if he was pining to return home. But so far, his stay in Ministry had been one grand adventure, with no real downside. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and the desperate desire to go running, screaming back to the city to hit like a ton of bricks. His distraction with his lovely next-door neighbor was the obvious reason, but somewhere, deep down, he knew there was more to it than that. The one question he kept asking himself was, could it last?

  Rachel was waiting when Nick knocked on her door. She had one tote bag and her camera. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready. Thanks again for this. I’ve got my Who Dat shirt packed and ready.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll try and protect you since we’re sitting in the middle of the Falcon’s section in Atlanta.”

  “Did you think I would sell out?”

  He laughed. “No. I didn’t, quite honestly. You would never sell out. That’s one thing I like about you.”

  “Well, thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It was meant as one.”

  They listened to the radio and realized they both had extremely eclectic tastes in music. Maybe not the same music, but varied enough for an open mind.

  “How do you feel about meeting my mother?” he asked when they were about thirty miles outside of Atlanta.

  “I’m not sure. Is she going to hate me on sight because I’m not your ex?” Rachel asked, her tone wary.

  “I don’t know. That’s just it; she still has a relationship with Monica, but I can’t very well come to town without stopping by and saying hello. I don’t want to catch her wrong and expose you to her inappropriate behavior if she’s in a stew about something.”

  “You should definitely see your mom while you’re here. Maybe you can stop by and say hi while I sit in the car if you’re not planning to stay too long.”

  “I’ll give her a call and feel her out. If she’s in a snit, we’ll skip it.”

  Rachel nodded. “I get it. I’ve been through the difficult parent thing. Your mom has to come to terms with losing Monica as a family member. She might be on a different time frame for acceptance. Probably still holding out hope that you’ll work it out.”

  “I’ve tried everything I can to convince her that it’s over. Last time we spoke, I got pretty frustrated with her. Checking in might be a good thing.”

  He dialed his mother’s number, but she didn’t answer, so he left a voicemail. “Hey, Mom, it’s me. I’m just outside of Atlanta heading to the game. I thought I would swing by and say hi to you and Dad. I’ve got my friend, Rachel, with me so we’ll be there in about forty-five minutes to an hour, depending on traffic. Call me back and let me know your status.”

  “Well, I guess our reception will be a crap shoot. Are you okay with an uncertain welcome? The good news is, Mom’s reaction can be tempered, and she will feel bad and apologize later. Her mind can be changed. She is moody, and first impressions shouldn’t be taken to heart.”

  “Sounds like my dad to some degree. He often has to be convinced he’s wrong about something or someone. It’s not easy to do, but he can be made to see reason.”

  “Exactly. So, you’ve dealt with this personality before. That’s good. It terrifies some people.”

  “When you’ve dealt with someone who is edgy and moody, you learn not to take things too personally, and how to navigate them. I’ll understand if she doesn’t respond well to my being here.”

  “If they’re even home. I’m assuming they will be. They don’t get out much these days, especially after about two o’clock in the afternoon. Dad likes a little nap after lunch, and Mom always cooks his dinner.”

  “They sound very traditional. My parents were outwardly that way until we found out my dad had an illegitimate bastard and brought him to live with us at three years old when his mother died. Then, things got more complicated.”

  “Wow. I guess so. So, your mom agreed to raised him?” That was admirable.

  “She did, but then my dad wouldn’t let anyone discipline James. He was wild, and nearly brought the household to its knees. He was a holy terror.”

  “That does sound complicated—and very unfair to everyone, including James,” Nick said.

  “And it goes from there. So, your mother sounds like a piece of cake to me,” Rachel joked.

  “I’ll encou
rage you to withhold your grace toward my mother until you meet her.”

  “You said you have a brother?” Nick asked.

  “Yes. Chuck. He’s a few years younger than me. He’s in graduate school at UGA in Athens, which is just under an hour from Atlanta in the other direction.”

  “What’s he studying?” Rachel asked.

  “He’s got a business management degree and now he’s getting his MBA. We’re close, but completely different, personality-wise. He’s a totally laid-back type on the surface, and lets Mom’s insults and passive-aggression roll right off him. Drives her crazy that she can’t get to him.”

  “And you take her to task on her bad behavior and she can’t get enough.”

  He nodded. “I can’t seem to let her get away with the back-handed insults.”

  “I’ve learned from my sister, Sabine, the counselor, that people who act that way are mostly starved for attention.”

  “Yep. That’s the sad part. I know this, and I bite every time. It just drives me crazy the way she behaves.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll see how it goes in a few minutes, won’t we?” Rachel asked.

  “I’m glad I’ve prepared you to some degree. At least you know what to expect within a range.”

  They drove the last half hour in heavy traffic, as they hit the city. It didn’t have to be rush hour in Atlanta for there to be traffic. They took the perimeter highway 285 to I-75 to the Vinings exit. Driving through the affluent neighborhoods, Nick worried just a little that his privileged upbringing might change her opinion of him. He understood that she’d had an equally affluent one, but he couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed by the show of wealth in his childhood neighborhood.

  They arrived at his parents’ house a few minutes later. It was a beautiful large, two-story stucco house with a circular drive in front.

  “Wow. It’s lovely. Did you grow up here?” Rachel asked.

  “Yes. My whole life. I attended Pace Academy right down the street.”

  “Does it look like your parents are home?”

  “Yep, they’re home.” He looked off to the side and saw a low-slung silver convertible. “Uh-oh. Maybe we should go.”