Sleigh Ride: A Holiday Novella

by Breezie Bennett

  “We needed the drink.” My emotions shift from shock to pure sadness. “The way Coach Watson talked about the drink… It was so special… It made the whole night.” I hold my hands to my head and start to pace. “How can we re-create the night without the drink that made it special?”

  “Okay, okay.” My ever-steady husband places his calming hands on both my shoulders and levels his gaze with mine. “We’re going to come up with something.”

  We both turn and stare at the puddle again.

  “Unless that something involves teleporting to Vermont, I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  Andre pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’re gonna need one hell of a Christmas miracle.”

  Nine

  Matt McKenzie

  “I always forget you’re, like, scary rich.” I sip my champagne and lean into the soft leather seat of the Vice private jet. “Like the kind of rich that shouldn’t even be legal.”

  “Would you cram it over there?” Ellie rolls her eyes and shifts Mason to the other side of her lap, her gaze catching mine. “I’m just glad we got that stupid fake-snow machine with time to spare.”

  I stretch out my arms and relax them behind my head. “In style, I might add. No wonder you love adventures so much. This is the life, baby.”

  “The jet does come in pretty clutch.” Ellie laughs softly and brushes a strand of dark red hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t be the first time this thing has saved my ass when I’m running late.”

  “You ever miss your traveling-nomad life? All the wild adventures?” I nod at her. “Now that, you know, you’re all settled down and domestic with me.”

  She smiles, so warm and sweet it tugs at my soul. “Who said the adventures ever stopped? They just got better.”

  I lean over and kiss her, then stroke Mason’s soft little head. “Baby’s first private-jet ride.”

  Ellie laughs heartily. “Let’s document!” She pulls out her phone and snaps a selfie of the three of us.

  I examine the phone and smile. “You even managed to capture the glistening droplet of drool in the corner of Mason’s mouth.”

  We laugh and sip more champagne.

  “We should be almost home.” Ellie checks the time. “Now we’ll have plenty of time to drop Mason off at my parents’ and head over to the beach with the snow machine to help set everything up.”

  I hold my hand up for a high five. “Killed it, babe. As usual.”

  Ellie smacks my hand, then pulls it to her mouth for a kiss. “As always.”

  “Damn…” I run a hand through my hair. “I really hope this all works. With Coach, I mean.”

  “It has to.” She rubs Mason’s head and looks up at me, starry-eyed. “There’s nothing like a big-ass romantic gesture.”

  I arch a brow, giving her a teasing smile. “Is that so?”

  “Oh yes. And I would know, considering I was the object of a Super Bowl Timeout Love Confession.”

  I laugh and shrug. “I have absolutely no shame. I laid it all out there, and look where we are now.”

  She rests her head on my shoulder as Mason starts to drift to sleep. “Look where we are now, McKenzie.”

  “And…” I kiss her forehead. “Your dad doesn’t even hate me anymore.”

  “It’s true. The other day I was on the phone with him, and he actually referred to you as a good kid.” She switches to her overly deep, mocking Christopher Vice voice. “That Matt…he’s all right. He’s a good kid.”

  “High praise.” I chuckle.

  “Oh, the highest.”

  My phone vibrates with a call in my pocket, and I pull it out to see who it is. I still can’t believe there’s Wi-Fi and cell service on this plane. “Oh, Smoke’s calling me.”

  Ellie rolls her eyes. “Calling to brag about how they totally lucked out with him already having that liqueur?”

  “I’m sure.” I laugh as I swipe the answer button and hold it to my ear. “What’s good, Smoke?”

  “Hey, uh, hey, man.” He sounds…panicked. Not an emotion I’ve ever heard from Andre Smoke, that’s for sure.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, um, not exactly.”

  I glance at Ellie, who is hearing his voice on the other end and looking concerned.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, pressing the phone to my ear. “What happened?”

  “Well…you see…” He takes a slow breath, clearly trying to form the next sentence. “You know how we had the bottle of maple liqueur? For the sleigh ride tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, you lucky bastard. What’s the problem? It’s not the right stuff?”

  “No, it’s the right stuff. Well, it was…”

  I swallow and glance over at Ellie, whose eyes triple in size. “What do you mean it was?” I ask slowly, drawing the words out. “Please don’t tell me you drank it.”

  Ellie’s jaw falls open in shock.

  “No, no, no.” Smoke forces a laugh. “We didn’t drink it. We just…are not in possession of it anymore.”

  “Dude,” I say sternly. “What the hell happened?”

  “We dropped it,” he says matter-of-factly, sighing with relief to get the truth off of his chest. “We knocked it right off the countertop. Crash. It’s gone. All over the kitchen floor.”

  “Bro…” I drop my face into my hand and shake my head in total disbelief. “This has to be some kind of a joke.”

  “McKenzie…I wish it was. I really fucking do.”

  “We’re almost back. We took the Vice jet to North Carolina to get the only available, evidently, artificial-snow machine in the Southeast. But we’re landing in, like, thirty.”

  “No chance you could make a pit stop in Vermont on that jet?” he asks with a sarcastic laugh.

  “I’m sorry, man.”

  “We totally screwed up. Now it’s almost one in the morning, and I have no idea how to fix this. We need help, bro. You said you’re almost done with your job. Is there anything you guys can do? You gotta come over, man.”

  Hearing the desperation in his voice, I look over at Ellie, who’s been able to hear Andre’s whole side of the conversation and is processing it. Slowly.

  “Hang on,” she says, gesturing at the phone. “Put him on speaker.”

  Knowing damn well to never question Elizabeth Vice when she has an idea, I hold the phone between the two of us and press the speaker button.

  “Hey, Andre,” she says warmly.

  “Hey, Vice. I guess you heard that Kendall and I are officially the Christmas screw-ups.”

  “Yeah,” she laughs softly. “You guys are kind of the worst. But I had a thought.”

  “Please,” Andre groans. “Anything. Any shred of a possibility of how to fix this is welcome. Kendall’s finally stopped crying, but that’s about as much progress as we’ve made.”

  “Well, Matt and I were going to drop Mason off with my parents in the morning, but we can check to see if we can stop by as soon as we get back. My dad basically doesn’t sleep, so it should be fine. Anyway, I thought maybe Matt and I could come over and help you guys make the fancy special drink.”

  I look at Ellie with surprise, feeling a smile pull at my cheeks.

  Andre pauses for a long while. “Make it? Like…from scratch?”

  “Yeah.” She sifts through something on her phone screen, her eyes scanning a mile a minute. “It might not taste exactly the same, but we can get pretty close. I’ve found some recipes for a maple vodka online, and they’re not too complicated. If you guys want to run to a twenty-four-hour store while Matt and I drop off Mason and the snow machine, I bet we could have a bottle ready by morning.”

  “For real?” Andre asks, laughing with relief. “You guys, that would be insanely clutch.”

  “Hey, man,” I chime in, wrapping an arm around Ellie and loving her even more than I did five minutes ago. “We’re happy to help.”

  “It’s a team effort, right?” Ellie smiles at me and leans into my embrace. “Besides, it might n
ot be the perfect drink, but it’ll get the point across. Thought that counts, right?”

  I can hear Kendall’s voice faintly on the other end of the call, obviously having been listening in. “Okay, okay,” she says, muffled and breathless. “That could actually work.”

  Ellie gives me a hopeful smile. “We got this, guys.”

  Kendall is closer to the phone now. “Send me the recipe, El. I’ll get everything we need before you guys get here.”

  “Perfect!” Ellie starts clicking away on her phone.

  “And don’t worry,” I say. “This is going to be fun. Like everything else on Christmas.”

  “For Coach,” Andre says on a laugh.

  “For Coach.”

  Ten

  Andre Smoke

  “Jesus, Kendall, how much vodka did you think we’d need?” Matt laughs as he and Ellie walk into the kitchen and see the three huge glass-handled bottles of Tito’s sitting on the counter.

  “Well…” Kendall shrugs. “I don’t know. I just grabbed a bunch. I was panicking.”

  Ellie gives Kendall a hug. “We got this, I promise.”

  Kendall brushes some hair out of her face. “The recipe says it has to chill in the fridge for two weeks. We only have, like, ten hours.”

  “I didn’t say it was gonna be perfect.” Ellie cringes a little, an apologetic look in her eyes.

  “I like when things are perfect,” Kendall whispers, running her thumb along one of the massive Tito’s bottles.

  I walk over and put an arm around my wife. “I know you do. And we’re going to get as close to perfect as we can.”

  “Hell yeah,” Matt chimes in, studying the bottles of maple syrup sitting next to the vodka.

  “You’re right, you’re right.” Kendal shakes out her shoulders and smiles. “I just need to relax. It’s Christmas after all.”

  “It is Christmas, indeed. And I know the best way to relax.” Ellie smiles deviously, picking up one of the Tito’s bottles by its handle. “I propose we start this little two a.m. drink-making session with a celebratory shot.”

  Kendall snorts. “A shot?”

  “You’re wild.” Matt shoots his wife a look. “But we do have way more than we need…”

  Ellie wiggles the bottle in front of me. “Smoke? You in?”

  I hold my hands up and laugh. “Fuck it, it’s Christmas.”

  “Oh! I have the perfect glasses for this.” Kendall reaches into a cabinet, pulling out four small crystal shot glasses.

  Ellie pours a full shot of vodka in each of the glasses.

  We pick them up and clink them together. “To Coach,” I say.

  “To Coach!”

  We all knock back the alcohol, and I can’t help but laugh at Kendall’s shot-taking face.

  “Shit,” Matt grunts. “Haven’t done that in a while.”

  “Retweet,” Ellie agrees, setting her glass on the countertop.

  “Woo!” Kendall laughs, finally unscrunching her face and shaking out her hair. “That was good. Great idea, El.”

  Ellie nudges her playfully. “I got you.”

  “All right.” I rub my palms together. “Now, we focus.” I point both my index fingers at Ellie. “Vice, recipe?”

  “Right here.” She pulls out her phone and sets it on the counter, tapping the screen. “It’s literally just maple syrup and vodka. I think you’re supposed to reduce the syrup on the stove or…something?”

  Kendall laughs and drops her head into her hands, that silky blond hair falling all around her face. “This is going to be a train wreck, isn’t it?”

  I open a cabinet and take out a saucepan, setting it on the stove and turning on a burner.

  “Only a minor train wreck,” Matt assures us, zooming in on the recipe instructions. “Hey, how did you guys break the original bottle, anyway? You just dropped it?”

  “Um.” Kendall looks at me and bites her lip.

  I hold her gaze for a beat too long, stifling a smile at the visual of what exactly was happening—or about to happen—when that bottle got knocked to the floor.

  “We, uh…” I pull my gaze from hers, still fighting the obvious smile. “Just dropped it.”

  Matt narrows his eyes at me, crossing his arms and seeing right through my bullshit. “Yeah, Smoke. Seven interceptions last season. You’re a real butterfingers.”

  “It just fell!” Kendall says defensively, through a slight giggle. “Let’s take another shot.”

  Ellie claps. “That’s my girl.”

  I draw back and raise my brows in surprise. “Damn, babe, okay!”

  “We’re gonna be up all night anyway, might as well make it fun.” Kendall refills the four shot glasses with Tito’s, and I can already start to see what kind of night this is about to turn into.

  An hour and a few more shots later, I stir the sweet, gooey liquid in the saucepan. “Is this what a maple reduction is supposed to look like?”

  Kendall leans into me, swaying a little and laughing. “I have no freaking idea.”

  “It smells super good,” Ellie asserts with a wide grin and bright eyes, clearly feeling the same buzz as my wife. “Like what you would want on pancakes.”

  Matt arches a brow at her. “That’s very astute, babe.”

  “Thank you.” Ellie holds a hand to her chest, sensing no sarcasm whatsoever.

  “I like this stuff.” Kendall taps the diminishing bottle of Tito’s with her fingernail. “I’m, like, so chill right now.”

  “Are you?” I tease her.

  “Oh, absolutely. But where’s the recipe?” She reaches for the phone that has the directions. “I just want to make sure we’re doing it right.”

  “Even when you’re drunk, you’re a perfectionist.” I shoot her a wink.

  “I’m not drunk.” She waves a hand dismissively, then meets Ellie’s gaze, and the two erupt in laughter.

  “This is going great.” Matt chuckles as he walks over to the stove to stand next to me. “All right, I think we just have to funnel this into the vodka once it cools.”

  “It’s supposed to sit for two weeks, guys,” Kendall says, fighting laughter.

  “We know, hon. We don’t have two weeks.”

  Ellie scrunches her face up and cringes a little. “Do you think it’s gonna be nasty?”

  Matt lifts a shoulder. “Probably. But we’re committed now.”

  “Is it even going to be…” Kendall tilts her head to the side and studies the liquid in the saucepan. “Like…safe?”

  “Oh my God.” Ellie gasps. “What if we poison Coach?”

  I hold a palm to my face and take a deep breath. “Nobody is getting poisoned. Ken, would you hand me that funnel and the bottle we poured the vodka into?”

  Feeling the shots a little bit myself, I’m extra careful to hold everything as steady as possible.

  “So…” Matt zooms in on the recipe. “We poured the Tito’s into this new bottle—it’s not the authentic maple leaf one, but it’ll do—and now we just add the reduction.”

  “Okay…” I say hesitantly, steadying the funnel in the top of the bottle on the counter and lifting the saucepan above it. “If you say so.”

  We all watch in still silence as I gently pour the thin, sugary maple goo into the clear vodka and watch it swirl around.

  The four of us step back in unison and stare at the bottle.

  “It looks…” Matt says slowly as the brown liquid twists into a clump at the bottom.

  “Pretty fucking gross,” I finish softly.

  Ellie snorts. “It’s nasty, you guys.”

  “Well, hey, hey.” Kendall holds up her hands and steps in front of the questionable beverage. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, right?”

  “Says the perfectionist designer.” Ellie gives her a teasing wink.

  “Hear me out, though.” My sweet wife blinks her glistening blue eyes and smiles at me, her cheeks rosy from the alcohol and her hair falling in blond cascades around her delicate face. “Let’s just tr
y it.”

  “Oh God.” Matt shakes his head. “That’s a hard pass from me.”

  “Come on, you guys.” Kendall rolls her eyes and picks up the shot glasses, setting them in front of the bottle. “Just a taste. What’s one more shot?”

  Ellie shrugs. “We did already decide we’re not driving home…”

  I nod. “We got hella guest rooms. You guys are crashing here. I’m with you, babe. Let’s give it a shot.”

  “So to speak,” Ellie jokes.

  Matt waves a hand. “Pour ’em up, you peer pressurers.”

  Kendall gives the bottle a good swirl and pours four small shots.

  We all take our glasses and laugh.

  “One more,” I say, clinking mine in the air against the other three. “To a night we sure as hell won’t forget.”

  We all knock back the homemade liqueur, and a surprising sweetness fills my tastebuds, with a smooth finish and a nice little burn. “Oh shit,” I say through a soft laugh.

  “Okay…” Ellie sets her glass down. “Maybe I’m just a little tipsy, but that’s pretty damn good.”

  “Tastes like…” Matt smacks his lips. “Christmas.”

  “We did it!” Kendall holds her hands up, and we all exchange high fives and laugh heartily.

  “Just call us Santa’s matchmaking elves.” I take the bottle and screw the cap on, carefully placing it in the fridge where it won’t get knocked over.

  Eleven

  Leo Sterling

  “Nancy and her crew should be here any minute.” I glance down at my phone as Frankie and I walk out onto the boardwalk, pushing Sammy in a stroller.

  “You’re sure they’re bringing a reindeer and a sleigh?” She raises a brow at me, her chocolate-brown waves blowing around her face in the ocean breeze.

  “Positive, babe.” I glance over at a Porsche Cayenne pulling into the parking lot. “Oh, awesome. Jess and Elliot are here.”

  “Hey, you guys!” Jessica waves her hands and smiles at us as she opens the back door and Asher comes racing out of the car.

  “Hey, girl.” Frankie walks down the boardwalk to greet them. “How’s the Ferris wheel PTSD treating you?”