“And what did you say?”
“I think it was, ‘Rot and die.’”
“You think you might have been overreacting there?”
“No.” Trudy sat up again and stuck another red gumdrop on the roof of the gingerbread house. “I think I just told him the truth. Which was the best thing I could have done. I don’t care if he thinks I’m nuts or irrational or anything else, I told him the truth. He did the worst possible thing he could do to me, so don’t bother showing up with flowers, making cute apologies and bad jokes. And yes, I know it’s not all about him, I know he’s cashing Daddy’s emotional checks, but right now? It’s about him.”
“He sounded like a nice guy when you were dating him.”
“He is. He’s great. Hell, Dad’s a nice guy most of the time. That’s why we believed in him for so long. He loved us, he was a good guy, how could he keep forgetting us like that? Jesus, Courtney, I could have ended up in a relationship like that. ‘Nolan’s a nice guy, he loves me, why am I bleeding from the ears all the time?’”
Courtney nodded. “Yeah. I know. It was almost a relief when Pres left because I could finally stop aching with disappointment.” She sighed. “Except there’s Leroy. Now I ache for Leroy. Especially tomorrow morning.”
“We did it to him, you know.” Trudy blinked back tears. “We should have said, ‘Leroy, there is no Santa, and there’s not going to be a Mac Two under the tree on Christmas Day, although we will do whatever we have to do to get you one as soon as possible because we love you and always will.’ We should have told him the truth. Hell, Evil Nemesis Brandon told him the truth. Pretty damn bad when the only person you can trust is your Evil Nemesis.” You and me, Leroy.
“I hate the truth. Except this part.” Courtney gestured to the Twinkletoes box. “The part where you almost got yourself killed trying to get him that MacGuffin. The part where you brought me a Twinkletoes to make up for twenty years ago. The part where you’re fixing my gingerbread house. The part where we’ll take care of Leroy together tomorrow. I like that part of the truth.”
Trudy dropped the gumdrops and sat back next to her sister, and Courtney snuggled closer and put her head on Trudy’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Trudy said, patting her arm. “I like the part where you waited up for me. And did the boring part of the gingerbread house. And didn’t tell me I’m an idiot for still wanting a lying bastard.”
“So it’s not so bad,” Courtney said as the first gumdrop slid off the roof of the gingerbread house.
They watched for a minute while another slowly followed the first one.
Trudy thought about putting them back again and decided to let them slide. “What are we going to tell Leroy tomorrow?”
“How about, ‘Maybe it fell off the sleigh’?” Courtney said.
Trudy sighed. “Well, it beats, ‘Aunt Trudy had a Mac for you, but the United States government lied to her and took it away.’”
“Yeah,” Courtney said. “He’s mature for his age, but we’d never be able to explain that one. I’m still not sure I get it.”
“That’s okay.” Trudy straightened. “I get it. Let’s go to bed.”
She stood up and pulled Courtney to her feet and steered her in the direction of the stairs, and when her sister was gone she walked around shutting off lights and turning off the fire, stopping when she came to the stereo where the CD had changed. Judy Garland was singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” the carol that most made Trudy want to kill herself every holiday. She stood in the darkness and listened to Judy break her heart and let the tears drip as she thought of Leroy in the morning and of Nolan that night. I really did believe in you, she thought. For about five minutes, I believed, and it felt really good.
Then Judy finished her song and Trudy turned the stereo off and went to bed.
* * *
The next morning, Trudy curled up in an armchair in her flannel robe and mainlined coffee while Leroy opened his presents. When he was done, he turned and looked at them, standing straight in his Lilo and Stitch footie PJs, and said, “‘Guffin?”
Courtney swallowed. “It wasn’t in there? Gee, baby, maybe it fell off the sleigh.”
Leroy looked at her with the five-year-old version of, How dumb do you think I am?
Trudy put her coffee cup down and took a deep breath. “Leroy, here’s the thing. There really isn’t a—”
The doorbell rang, and she stopped, grateful for any interruption. “I’ll get it.” She went to the front door and looked through the square windows at the top, through the gold wreath Courtney had hung on the outside.
Nolan was standing there, looking like three kinds of hell.
Good, she thought, you’re as miserable as I am, and opened the door. “Oh, look, it’s a Christmas miracle.”
He was holding two Christmas gift bags, slumping with exhaustion as the snow started to settle on his thick, dark hair. “Merry Christmas, Trudy.”
“Ho ho ho,” Trudy said. “I was just about to explain to my five-year-old nephew that there is no Santa. Can you come back at another time? Never would be good for me.”
He held out one of the bags. “Chill on the Santa. I got you covered.”
“Uh huh,” Trudy said.
“Go ahead. Look.”
She took the bag and looked inside at the top of a camo-colored box that said, New! Now with Toxic Waste! “You are kidding me.” She pulled out the box and saw the Mac Two, its pudgy little face uglier than ever now that its lips were pursed to spit goop. “How—”
“Top-secret,” Nolan said, trying an exhausted smile on her. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
“That’s lame.” She put the Mac Two back in the bag, hope beginning to rise that maybe he wasn’t a rat until she remembered that what he’d really come for was the Twinkletoes. She handed the bag back to him. “You’re too late. And your patter is falling off.”
“It’s six A.M., I’ve had no sleep, and I’m freezing.” Nolan held the bag out to her again. “Everything I have is falling off. Will you take this, please?” Then he looked past her, toward the floor, and said, “Hi.”
Trudy turned to see Leroy, blinking up at them, looking absurdly small in his footie pajamas.
“What’s that?” Leroy said, pointing to the Christmas bag.
“I found it out on the front lawn,” Nolan said. “I think it fell off the sleigh.” He handed it to Leroy.
Leroy looked into the top of it and his face lit up. “Mom!” he yelled. “You were right!” He took off for the living room and then stopped and came back. “Thank you very much for finding my ‘Guffin,” he said to Nolan, and then took off for the living room again, so happy that Trudy felt her throat close.
“Cute kid,” Nolan said, and looked back at Trudy.
“Thank you,” she said, feeling absurdly relieved. Don’t get suckered by this guy again. “Well, I’d invite you in, but I’m still mad at you. So thanks. Merry Christmas. Have a good life. Somewhere else.” She shut the door in his face.
“If you don’t sleep with him, I will,” Courtney said from behind her. “He got my kid a MacGuffin. He forgot the extra toxic waste, but what the hell.”
“He’s not leaving,” Trudy said as the doorbell rang again. “Go get your Twinkletoes, he’s going to ask for it next.” She opened the door.
“Forgot this.” Nolan handed her three packages of toxic waste.
“How do you feel about dating women with children?” Courtney said.
“Get the Twinkletoes,” Trudy said, and Courtney went back to the living room.
Nolan leaned in the doorway, looking too tired to stand. “Look, I know you’re mad, and I don’t blame you, but I want to see you again. We got off to a bad start because we were lying to each other—”
“I never lied to you,” Trudy said, outraged.
“You like faculty cocktail parties? And you really wanted to see that foreign film I took you to?”
“I was
trying to help you,” Trudy said. “I was trying to fit into your world.”
“You were boring as hell,” Nolan said.
“Hey!”
“But not last night. Last night you were somebody I want to see again. Without the violence.”
Trudy leaned in the other side of the doorway, watching the snow swirl behind him. “You know, if I didn’t know what I do know, I’d be pretty happy with that speech. But I know what you came for. Tell me the truth and you can have it. And then you can go away forever.”
“If I’m going away forever, I’m not getting what I want,” Nolan said.
“Funny,” Trudy said. “Okay, play your stupid game. Courtney’s getting the doll.”
“What doll?” Nolan said.
“The one with the smashed-in corner and the X. Like the MacGuffin. Only this year it’s the Twinkletoe—” She stopped as Nolan’s face changed from exhausted to alert.
“Let me see it,” he said, and stepped inside, pushing her in front of him and closing the door behind him as Courtney came into the hall with the box.
“Hi. I’m Courtney, Trudy’s sister.” Courtney handed him the Twinkletoes.
“Nice to meet you, Courtney.” Nolan took the box.
“The instructions are in there,” Trudy said, a little uncertain now. “The USB key is in the nail file this time.”
“You are kidding me.” Nolan opened the box and took out the manicure set. Then he tucked the box under one arm, took out the nail file, and yanked the handle off. “You’re not kidding me,” he said, looking at the end of the USB key. “I will be damned.” He put the file back in the case and the case back in the box. “I have to make a call. You stay here.” He went back out onto the porch, shutting the door behind him.
“Thanks, I will,” Trudy said to the door.
He hadn’t known about the Twinkletoes.
Courtney went up on tiptoe to see out the little windows. “He’s on his cell phone.”
“Yeah?” Trudy said.
He really hadn’t known about the Twinkletoes.
Courtney sank back on her heels. “He didn’t know about the Twinkletoes, Tru. I think he’s a good one. Plus he’s hot.”
“Maybe,” Trudy said, and then the doorbell rang again.
“I’ll just go see what my son is doing with his new tac nuke,” Courtney said, and went back into the living room.
Trudy took a deep breath and opened the door.
“The thanks of a grateful nation are yours,” Nolan said, meeting her eyes and taking her breath away. “Now about us.”
“Us?” Trudy said, her voice cracking.
“Yeah, us. I know I really screwed you over last night.”
“Well, national security and all,” Trudy said.
He really hadn’t known about the codes in the Twinkletoes.
“But I keep my promises,” Nolan said, his eyes steady on hers.
“Good for you,” Trudy said.
He hadn’t known.
“I said you’d have this on Christmas morning.” Nolan held out the other bag. “I know it’s a mess, but…”
Trudy took the bag and looked inside. “What the…” She pulled out the Mac One. The box was gone, and the doll was battered and mangled, but it was her Mac. She squeezed it, and it made a crackly sound. “What did you do to it?”
“They had to take a code machine out of it,” Nolan said. “So I got some paper from the paper shredder and restuffed it.”
Trudy pulled up the Mac’s jacket to see a broad band of duct tape wound around its belly. “Duct tape.”
“I don’t sew,” Nolan said. “Besides, duct tape is better. It’s a guy thing.”
Trudy smoothed the little camo shirt back down and tried to rub the smudge of dirt off the Mac’s nose. He looked nicer now, she thought, all ripped up and eviscerated and dirty. More vulnerable. Plus one of his eyebrows had come off, so now he just looked half-mad. Kind of like me.
“Reese threw the box away in the warehouse,” Nolan went on. “I looked but couldn’t find it. The silencer was the thumb drive, so that has to stay with NSA. They think the ammo belt may have something in it, too. And his boots—”
“How did you ever talk them into letting you take the doll?” Trudy said, amazed.
“I didn’t give them much choice,” Nolan said. “My future was riding on it.”
Trudy blinked up at him.
“You know. Assuming you’re ever going to talk to me again.”
“You got in the cab thinking you already had the codes, didn’t you?” Trudy said. “Did the NSA tell you to do that?”
“No, they told me to stay put since they had the cab under control.”
“Why’d you get in?”
Nolan shrugged. “I wasn’t that sure they had it under control.”
“You came along to protect me,” Trudy said.
“Yeah,” Nolan said. “But don’t go giving me any medals because that turned out great for me. We ended up with everything we needed because I got in that cab. Following you around made me look like a genius to my boss.” He shook his head. “And now we have this year’s codes. You’re good for me, Gertrude.”
Trudy wrapped her arms around the Mac, feeling the crunch of its duct tape against her stomach. “You turned out pretty good for me, too, Nolan.”
He nodded and met her eyes for a long moment.
Kiss me, she thought.
Then he said, “I have to go.”
“Of course,” Trudy said, deflating.
“But I would like to come back,” he said, as if he were choosing his words very carefully. “Can I have you, uh”—he shook his head—“see you later tonight?”
Under the Christmas tree with all the lights on. “Yes,” Trudy said primly. “That would be very nice.” Kiss me.
“Okay then.” Nolan looked at a loss for words. “About seven?”
“Seven is good,” Trudy said. Kiss me.
“I’ll see you at seven then,” Nolan said. “I really will, I promise.”
“I believe you,” Trudy said. “Thank you for the MacGuffin.” Kiss me, you idiot.
“Uh, you’re welcome. Thank you for the Chinese spy codes.” He turned to go.
“Wait,” Trudy said, and when he turned back she grabbed the lapel of his coat and pulled him down to her and kissed him good, and he dropped the Twinkletoes and pulled her close, squashing the Mac One between them.
“I’m crazy about you,” he whispered when he broke the kiss.
“I’m crazy about you, too,” she said, dizzy with happiness. “Hurry back.”
“I will,” he said fervently, and then he was gone, off into the snow, but he’d be back. He’d promised, and she believed him.
She closed the door and went back into the living room just in time to see Leroy squeeze the Mac Two so that green toxic waste shot across the room as Madonna sang “Santa Baby” on the radio and Courtney dipped a broken gingerbread arm into her gin.
“I love Christmas,” Trudy said, and went to join her family.
About the Author
Brian Ach Photography, Inc.
Jennifer Crusie was researching her dissertation on the differences in the way men and women tell stories when she got sidetracked into writing romance novels.
Her first book was published in 1993 (which pretty much finished off any hope of her getting that Ph.D.) and her twenty-second book, Maybe This Time, came out in August of 2010, all of which she considers a minor miracle, especially since she is also a New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestseller and a two-time Rita award winner. You can sign up for email updates here.
Also by Jennifer Crusie
Maybe This Time
Bet Me
Faking It
Fast Women
Welcome to Temptation
Crazy for You
Tell Me Lies
With Bob Mayer
Wild Ride
Agnes and the Hitman
Don’t Look Down
With Anne Stuart and Lani Diane Rich
Dogs and Goddesses
With Eileen Dreyer and Anne Stuart
The Unfortunate Miss Fortunes
Special Low Price Holiday Reads
Low Price Holiday Stories and Novellas
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Begin Reading
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
About the Author
Also by Jennifer Crusie
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novella is either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
HOT TOY. Copyright © 2006 by Argh Ink. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Olga Grlic
Cover photograph © Mega Pixel / Mega Pixel
e-ISBN 9781250090416
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
First Edition: October 2015
Hot Toy Page 7