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It's All Thanks to Santa

Page 7

by Kayt Miller


  “It’s just a condo. Nothing special.”

  “Uh-huh.” I push my door open and stomp to the back of his fancy car. I wait for him to open it so I can grab my suitcase and the duffle that I’d packed the night before.

  I reach for the handle of my largest bag, but he shakes his head. “Give me the suitcase.”

  “No, I’ve got it.”

  “Hand it over, JoJo.”

  I release the giant suitcase and let him take it. Instead, I pick up the duffle, sling it over my shoulder, then grab the plastic tub. He attempts to take the duffle too, but I shake him off this time.

  “We’re on the top. There’s an elevator right over there.” He points to the silver doors in the center of the garage.

  “Of course there’s an elevator,” I mumble. My old place had an elevator that quit working in the 1970s. So, yeah, there’s that. It’s okay, walking up and down three flights of steps was good for me.

  “What’s that?” he says, looking back at me.

  “Nothing.”

  Inside the elevator, I roll my eyes at how immaculate it is. If only he could have seen the dump I was living in before I lost my job. Once we get all of my stuff in the elevator, he presses the “P” button for penthouse, then types in some numbers on a little keypad above the regular elevator buttons. “The code to get to my place is 0710.”

  “First of all… you live in the freaking penthouse?”

  He chuckles. “I do.”

  “What do the numbers represent?”

  He turns to face me. Stepping close, he looks into my eyes. “It’s my birthday. July 10th. When’s yours?”

  “February 11th.”

  As the doors ding open, he gives me a quick kiss. “We’ll do something special for your birthday. Maybe a little birthday getaway somewhere warm.”

  What the hell is he talking about? A birthday getaway? Who does that?

  Without commenting on the whole getaway thing, I follow Billy to the left. Using his thumb print to access his door, he turns to me. “I’ll get you programmed in tonight so you can come and go as you please. No need for a key.”

  “Nice,” I say with a smile. And it is. I lose my keys a lot.

  When he opens the door, he steps aside so I can enter first, but it’s dark.

  “Lights on,” he says.

  All of a sudden, the whole place is illuminated and I’m speechless. Not for long. “It’s beautiful.” And it is. “Seriously, Billy. Wow.”

  The living room, dining room, and open kitchen are the first things I see. Everything is done in whites, grays, and touches of blue and black. It’s sleek, modern, and masculine. It’s obvious a woman hasn’t gotten in here to change things up. As for me, I’ve no intention to change a thing. Well, except to add some color. Just a tad.

  “There are two bedrooms down that hallway as I mentioned. They each have en suite bathrooms.” He points to his left. “And there’s an office through there and a third bathroom.” He points to the right. “There’s a small gym on the first floor.”

  “Is laundry in the basement or do you have to use a laundromat?”

  “No. Laundry is in the hall closet next to the third bathroom.”

  “You have laundry here?” I say with awe. “This place is the bomb.”

  Billy chuckles. “I’m glad you think so. Let me show you to your room.” He stops and winks. “Unless you want to share mine.”

  “Too soon, William.”

  “It’s Billy.”

  “Right. Billy.”

  I follow him down the hallway to the bedrooms. He stops in front of a set of double doors. “This is my room. You know… if you decide you want to visit in the night.”

  “Noted.”

  Several more steps and he pushes open a door to a huge bedroom with a king-size bed, two floor-to-ceiling windows and a set of French doors that lead to what? “Is that a balcony?”

  “Yep. A small one. I have one too, and there’s another one off the living room.”

  “Holy shit, son. This place is amazing.”

  “Yeah?” He smiles brightly. “You like it?”

  “What’s not to like? You have laundry in the condo.”

  “That’s all it took to impress you? A washer and a dryer?”

  I shrug. “What can I say? I’m a simple girl.”

  “Bullshit.” He laughs. “I have a feeling you’re going to be the most complicated woman I’ve ever met.”

  I shrug again. “We’ll see.”

  “Yeah,” he says as he leans down to kiss the top of my head. “Why don’t you get settled and I’ll order us some food. Thai okay?”

  “Oh, God. I haven’t had Thai in forever. Shrimp pad thai, please. And any appetizers you choose would be a bonus and very much appreciated.”

  “Got it. Come out when you’re done in here.”

  “I will. I’m just going to take a quick shower and I’ll be out. I’m beat. I’ll do more organizing tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.”

  After he leaves, I turn three hundred and sixty degrees to take in the bedroom that has got to be twenty feet square. It’s that big. I open a door next to the bathroom and gasp. “A fucking walk-in closet, bitches.” I’ve never had one of those. I drag my suitcase and duffle into the closet all while scooting my plastic tub along with my foot. Unzipping the suitcase, I grab a pair of pajamas and a clean pair of panties. From the duffle, I get my bathroom supplies, and from the plastic tub, I pull out my pillow and my most prized possession: the quilt made by Grandma Foster. She gave it to me when I graduated from high school. She was pretty old by then, but it didn’t prevent her from making me one of the most beautifully detailed quilts I’ve ever seen. It’s got every color in the rainbow. She designed it that way because she said I was “as colorful as they come.” She meant it as a compliment. She told me so. There’s also tiny hand-done stitching all over it. If you look really closely, you can see words she stitched into the fabric. Words like love, family, and, my favorite, “Jo is so very special.” That one is in the upper right corner and so tiny no one would ever spot it, but she pulled me aside and showed that one to me saying, “You are special. Jo. More special than you’ll ever know.”

  Well, crap on a cracker. I’m going to cry. I can’t though. Thai food will be here any minute. I need to get it together. Anyway, the blanket, also known as my wooby, goes everywhere with me. I can’t believe I left it at my folk’s place when I went over to Clancy’s. My head wasn’t in the game, I guess. Not surprising.

  Once I have all of my gear in hand, I step back into the bedroom and toss the pillow and wooby there. Making my way into the bathroom, I stop in my tracks when I see not only a huge shower, but a deep, jetted tub as well. “Fucking heaven.” That’s what this is.

  It takes me several minutes to figure out how to get the shower going. Once I do, I strip and step into the spray. “Oh. My. God.” There are three shower heads, and they’re all pointing to different parts of my body. “I’m never getting out of this shower.”

  “Well, that’s too bad.”

  I scream when I hear the voice. When I look out the glass door, I see Billy leaning against my bathroom door.

  “Is this how it’s going to be? You’re going to be a perv and watch me bathe?”

  He chuckles. “I hadn’t planned on turning into a pervert, but seeing you in there”—he points at his glass walled shower—“I may have to change my plan.”

  “Hardy har.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that the food has been ordered. Extra appetizers included.”

  “Which ones?” I ask as I wash my hair.

  “All of them. I ordered one of each.”

  “I love you,” I say with a sigh. Then, I freeze. “I mean….”

  He laughs. “You’re hungry. I’ll never believe anything you say when you’re hungry.”

  I release a sigh. “Good plan.”

  “It’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll be out i
n fourteen.”

  Billy laughs again as he leaves the bathroom and I rinse my hair. The next phase of my hair process takes extra time, conditioning. Getting my curls to behave takes care and at least ten minutes. Squeezing out a huge blob of the expensive crème into my hands—one of my only splurges—I work it through the curls and wonder what to do for the next nine minutes. “Shave.” I definitely need to shave.

  When all the steps are completed. I step out of the shower and realize I didn’t get a towel. When I look around, I see several hanging on metal bars. When I pull one off, it’s warm. “He’s got a towel warmer?” Holy shit, I’ve hit the jackpot. This guy is perfection. Wrapping it around me, I stand in front of the mirror and look at my scratches. The don’t look terrible. Sure, they’re still red, but the antibiotic cream the doc gave me has helped. I’ll need to put more on my face before bed as well as use the rest of the eye drops. As for my eye, it hurts, but it’s not unbearable. Which reminds me, I’ll need to find a pharmacy tomorrow to refill my eye drops.

  Once I’m dressed in my warmest jammies, I grab my pillow and wooby and head out to the living room. I don’t spot him right away, so I set my things on the sectional sofa and sit. Bringing the pillow around to rest behind my back, I pull my wooby up around me. It’s so soft and warm and perfect. Leaning back, I sigh at how cozy I feel.

  I turn when the front door opens and the smell of Thai food overtakes the space. I’m about to jump up when I look at Billy. His face holds a strange expression. It’s sort of a half smile and half something else. “What?” I ask.

  “That.” He points at me. “That is what I’ve been missing.”

  “Huh?” I look down at my quilt. “You need a quilt?”

  “No, I need you in my house with your quilt. Seeing you there, all cozy and content, is the best thing I’ve ever seen.” He steps closer. “That and your hair.” He reaches out and touches one of my wild curls still wet from my shower. “I’ve only ever seen the braids. That and the rat’s nest on Christmas Eve morning.” He laughs.

  “Yeah, well, in case you don’t remember, you gave me that rat’s nest. So….”

  “Oh, I remember.” He leans closer and kisses me softly. “You’re gorgeous. The prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. And having you here.” He looks at his living room. “You gave life to this room. To me. You added color.”

  “Oh. That’s nice.” I feel my eyes water. Then I whisper, “Thank you.”

  Wiping away the tear, he kisses me again. “We’ll need to get your eye medicine first thing in the morning. It keeps watering.” He winks.

  “Shush.” Reaching for the paper bag in his left hand, I take it from him and set it on the large marble coffee table.

  “You get plates and silverware. I’ll set everything up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He salutes me.

  “And hurry. I’m starving.”

  “I’m on it. What do you want to drink?”

  “Water.”

  “Got it.”

  He returns with place mats, plates, silverware, chopsticks, two bottles of water, and cloth napkins. Yes, that’s what I said. Cloth napkins. Well, he’s got laundry in his place, so I guess it’s okay. I do my best not to pile food on my plate. Instead, I take a couple of spoonfuls of pad thai and some appetizers. I’ll pace myself. I always think I can eat more than I can. Besides, I love leftovers.

  I take a bite and moan. “Oh, my goodness.”

  “Good?”

  “Yeff,” I say with my mouth full.

  “That place is great. I’m glad you like it.”

  “I do,” I say before biting into a spring roll.

  We eat and talk and laugh a little too. I don’t remember ever feeling this comfortable around a guy before. He’s easy to talk to. Easy to be with. When he holds his water bottle up, I lift mine as well. “Merry Christmas, JoJo.”

  “Oh, that’s right. It’s still Christmas.” This has been a long-ass day. “Merry Christmas, Billy.”

  He adds, “To our first Christmas together.”

  I pause for a second, letting his words sink in. It’s a very telling statement. Billy really likes me. He wants to try with me. And truthfully, I want to try too and not because he’s rich or because he mentioned a birthday getaway to somewhere warm. I couldn’t care less about that. No, this guy has spent two shitty days with me, and he hasn’t run screaming yet. So, yeah, I want to try. Tapping my water bottle against his, I repeat his sentiment. “To our first Christmas.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The day after Christmas, I awaken in my bed—the most comfortable bed ever made—to a quiet house. I search the bed for my phone to check the time, but it’s dead as a doornail.

  Dead as a doornail. Isn’t that the strangest expression? What is a doornail? And why would it be dead? You know what? As soon as I charge my phone, I’m going to look that shit up.

  Anyhoo, back to the story. I know Billy had to get up early and head to work, but now that I’m here, in his gorgeous place, I’m sad he’s gone. I like spending time with him. I bet you thought I’d wake up in Billy’s bed, didn’t you? Nope. I stuck to my guns on that one.

  Stuck to my guns? What does that one mean? I need to write some of these down so I can research them. Goodness knows I’ve got the time. “No. I need to search my phone for jobs.” Not stupid clichés.

  Sorry, I keep getting off track. So, after we ate, we snuggled on the couch and watched a holiday movie. He even got under Grandma Foster’s quilt with me. His arms were wrapped around me during the snuggling session. We kissed a few times but nothing with tongue, and I was okay with that. I like him. A lot. I don’t want to ruin it by this just being about sex. He feels the same. How do I know that? Well, for one, he’s taking me on a date tonight. A real one. To one of his favorite restaurants in the city. “I’m going to wine and dine you like you deserve,” he said.

  How can I not like the sound of that?

  After rolling out of bed, I step into the kitchen to find a sweet note from Billy.

  JoJo,

  Coffee is made, but if you want a fresh pot, supplies are in cupboard above the maker. Help yourself to whatever you need. Mi casa es su casa, as they say. Cereal in the pantry along with pancake mix, etc. Eggs and such in the fridge. My cell number is 555-982-3547 if you want to call or text. Since I don’t have yours, send me a text so I have it, please. <3 Billy

  A heart. He signed the note with a heart. My goodness, how did I get so lucky? I mean, what are the odds I’d meet a guy like that at Dingus’ Bar and Grill? Ordinarily, I’d say the odds are zero, but look at us now.

  I find a bagel in a stainless-steel breadbox and cream cheese in his fridge. Next I pour myself a cup of coffee, adding milk and sugar, then sit at one of his three stools at the kitchen island. I decide to see if my phone is alive so I can text him. Jogging back into my room, I grab the phone and cord and return to my spot in his sunny kitchen. Plugging it in, I’m able to see I’ve got a text from Clancy and a voice mail from my mom’s number. I check the time stamp and see she called at nine this morning. It’s now eleven thirty. I slept so late. Geesh, am I a lazy ass or what?

  I quickly save Billy’s number into my phone and send him a text letting him know I’m awake and eating his last bagel.

  Billy: No worries. We’ll go to the store this weekend and stock up on all your favorites.

  My God. Where did this guy come from?

  Hesitating, I decide to finish up my breakfast before listening to my mom’s message. I’m not prepared for whatever it is she’s got to say to me in the light of day. It’s probably about Gisele. I bet they bailed her out first thing this morning. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it’s about. “Oh, what the hell?” I hit the message icon and listen on speaker.

  “Josephine.” My mom’s voice sounds strained, almost panicked. “Your sister is very upset.” She pauses. “With you. She’s out on bail and…” She pauses again, and I swear I hear her sniffle. “She’s upset.”

 
She said that already. The voice changes suddenly. Now my dad is speaking, “Jo, it’s Dad.” He sighs. “I wish I could talk to you instead of leaving this message.”

  “Anyway. Gisele is… well, we’ve never seen her like this. She seemed fine when we picked her up at the station, but the minute she got here, home, she, well, she went down to the basement. We thought she was decompressing.” There’s a pause again. “After she left, I went down there to watch the game and… shit.” My dad mutters. “It seems as though she damaged some of your belongings.”

  Damaged my belongings? What does that mean?

  “She, uh, cut up some of your things.”

  “She cut up my things?” I’m doing my best to remember what I left there. I had a lot of clothes lying about, but I think I took all the good stuff. The stuff that still fits. Instead of calling them back, I send my dad a text.

  Me: How long was she in the basement?

  Dad: Thirty minutes, maybe.

  Long enough to do some real damage.

  Me: Where is she now?

  He responds immediately.

  Dad: Gone. She drove back to the city.

  I want to ask how bad it is, but really, I don’t want to know. I wait an extra-long time before I finally respond.

  Me: Why would she do that?

  Dad: She was upset.

  Me: Jesus, Dad. I’ve been upset plenty of times but I don’t go around destroying people’s things. She sounds psycho.

  There’s no response, so I text again.

  Me: Dad?

  Dad: LOL. No need to worry. She calmed down by the time she left. She and Mom had tea together. According to Mom, Gisele was just tired.

  Me: Tired? Yeah, after ruining my stuff. I bet she was tired.

  Dad: Nothing to worry about.

  Me: I think you and Mom only see Gisele through rose-colored glasses.

  Dad: That could be, but she assured us she was going home to take a hot shower, then head to work.

 

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