by Rene Penn
Bryan folded his arms. “This more than makes up for laying her off.”
"It's not like we're taking in a perfect stranger. You worked with her for over a year. They do background checks at your job, so she's not a criminal or anything of the sort." She placed a heavy winter comforter over the top sheet. "Besides that, no one deserves to be alone for Christmas. I don't even know her, and I—"
Bryan steadied a hand in the air. “All right. I got it.”
“Pillows.” Kathy pointed Bryan toward the dresser. “Promise you won’t be so surly while she’s here, meeting the family.” She winked at him.
“Stop, mother.”
“You don’t want your girlfriend to think you’re a humbug.”
“I don’t care,” he said and left the room. “And she’s not my girlfriend.”
She fluttered a laugh at him.
Not funny.
He went down the stairs to go pick up matter-of-fact, no-nonsense Jules from the airport, wishing that he wasn’t.
◆◆◆
Bryan waited curbside at the Missoula airport in his parent's old Jeep Cherokee. First, he waited with the ignition running. Then he saw that the plane would arrive fifteen minutes late. Delays were typical for this time of year. He could only count on one hand how many times he'd arrived in Missoula on time in the winter.
Bryan cut the engine and made himself comfortable. He wouldn't be able to do this at an airport in the DC area. Security would've asked him to move. Circle to a cell phone parking lot five minutes away. Not in Missoula. Lines of cars didn't mob the area. No ongoing threats to security. Here, only a few cars sat along the curb, and security threats were more of the wildlife variety than human.
After a few minutes with the heat off, the cold air from outside seeped in. Bryan turned the engine back on. He could handle the cold for a few minutes, but he didn't want Jules to step into a freezing car.
Damn it. No. Let her deal with it.
He cut the engine again. Minutes later, Jules walked out of the airport. She wore a stylish tan wool coat and a matching hat, like a beret. Bryan shook his head. The Montana elements would rip her outerwear to shreds.
Alongside her, she rolled a hardback gray suitcase the size of a giant safe. I should make her put it in the trunk herself. With that thought, he realized he’d steered away from “humbug” territory and was skating into asshole territory. He sighed with annoyance and hopped out of the car.
“Hi, Bryan.” She smiled. “Thanks for picking me up.”
Her free hand clutched the top of her flimsy coat, pulling the lapels together. When she got closer, she moved her hand down. She wasn't going to hug him, was she?
They couldn’t hug. She might get the wrong idea.
He quickly stuck out his hand for her to shake. She looked down at it, as if it were attached to a fake arm, and then shook it cautiously. She didn’t wear gloves, he noted.
“What kind of coat is that?” Bryan asked, grabbing her large safe-on-wheels. “Did you think you were going to France, not Montana?”
When her smile disappeared and she didn't respond, he popped the trunk of the car and heaved the luggage inside. "I don't know how you managed to carry that thing around."
“I’m stronger than I look.”
And more manipulative and opportunistic than you look, too.
While she made herself comfortable on the passenger side, Bryan got in the driver seat and threw the car into drive before she even had her seatbelt buckled.
She clicked the metal into place. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. You?” He gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“I’m fine. You seem tense or something.”
“Nope. I’m fine.” In a passive-aggressive, humbug sort of way.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded and stayed silent for the fifteen-minute ride to the cabin.
When they got inside, his parents and the dog were at the doorway, ready to greet them—well, her. He wheeled her suitcase around everyone toward the living room. He could hear his mother say hello first.
“Jules, bless your heart. Come out of that cold. Bryan practically left you on the front porch.”
The storm door squeaked to a close. The set of two heavy front wood doors closed next. He could hear his father’s deep voice, asking how Jules’ flight was.
Bryan moved her suitcase to the bottom of the stairs and then doubled-back. He felt a wrench in his throat when he saw his mother hugging Jules.
A hug? She didn’t even know Jules.
“While you’re here, I want you to feel like you’re at home.”
Come on, Mom.
Kathy continued, “We treat everybody like family in this house.”
But she's not family. She was my employee.
“Right, Bryan?” her mom said. “Bryan?”
He came closer, from the so-called shadows where he lurked. “I’m right here.”
Their five-year-old yellow labrador let out a single bark. His tail wagged at Jules.
Kathy smiled, “That’s our dog, Tigger. He’s saying welcome, too.”
Bryan rolled his eyes.
Bryan’s dad, Paul, waved her toward the living room. “Come in, Jules, and take a load off.”
Jules followed them in, stopping midway. Her gaze darted up at the tall cathedral ceilings, then scanned the large windows, the oversized Christmas tree, the two brick fireplaces, the antlers hanging on the wall, the vintage snowshoes, and the large, chocolate-colored couches.
“It’s exactly how I imagined.” Jules pressed her hands together. “Even better. What an amazing house.”
Bryan’s parents beamed at the compliment. “Thank you.” Kathy smiled. “We do love coming here. And there’s plenty of room for guests.” She raised her eyebrows at Jules.
Bryan would have to speak to his mom about this later. It was one thing to make a guest comfortable, but she was overdoing it. Jules wasn’t a guest, anyway. More of a half-guest.
He chimed in. “The house will be full tomorrow morning. Cousins and kids and neighbors and stuff.”
Her face brightened more than it already had. “Sounds great to me.”
Not the response he intended to receive. “It’ll be loud when everyone gets going.”
Kathy waved him off. “Don’t listen to him. When we get together, it’s no different than any other big family.” She patted the area next to her for Jules to sit and spoke in a playful tone. “Now, tell me, Jules. What’s my son like as a manager?”
“Agh.” Bryan made a beeline away from them to the kitchen.
◆◆◆
Jules liked Bryan’s mom right away. She had the same thick, dark-brown hair as Bryan, cut into layers that fell behind her ears and below her chin. Dimples accented her kind face, along with a broad, inviting smile. No makeup. It didn’t seem quite her style. She stood a little over five-feet tall and wore a pink-and-black flannel shirt and a gray scarf over her busty frame. If Jules had to picture a Montana mom, it would’ve been Kathy: warm, friendly, the neighbor-next-door. A woman capable of baking a pie one minute and chopping wood the next.
The lighthearted question about Bryan’s management style made Jules like her even more. If only she had a camera to record Bryan’s reaction, a blend of embarrassment and shock that pinched a fiery red splash over his cheeks.
Jules happily took the seat that Kathy patted next to her. “He’s pretty business-like as a manager.” Different from the uncharacteristic gruffness that greeted her at the airport.
Her comment about Bryan’s business-like nature produced a small “o” mouth from Kathy. “Really?” She then swiveled toward her husband.
Paul had a head full of salt-and-pepper, longish hair, a chiseled face, and a goat-tee. He smirked like a kid with a tell-tale secret.
Jules said, “It’s a good thing, though, right? He’s got great leadership skills. He’s responsible. He’s good at helping our team make decisions. And if we do something great, like l
and a big client or retainer, he doesn’t try to steal the credit, either.” Bryan’s parents chuckled. “He expects his team to perform well, but he’s fair.”
Should she tell them about his performance reviews? And the mediocre scores he’d given her?
Eh, why not?
Jules lowered her voice a little. “Speaking of fair, I think that’s what Bryan thought of me as an employee. Fair, as in marginal. I never got more than a three out of five on any of my performance reviews.”
Kathy’s mouth formed a bigger “O” this time. “But I can’t imagine why.”
Nice to know that Bryan hasn’t said anything negative about me.
“I think it’s because—”
She didn’t finish when Bryan’s tall frame returned to the living room, all six-foot-something of poised handsomeness, squared by broad shoulders. He glowered at the group. “I expected more of her than to be the Account Management team’s class clown.”
“Ouch.” Jules puckered.
Paul examined Bryan with a long, peaked brow. “Son.”
“It’s true,” grunted Bryan. “Rather than huddling around the water cooler, chatting about TV shows like Outlander and discussing whose legs look best in a kilt, Jules could’ve been securing accounts and taking her job more seriously. And if she wasn’t sure how, she could’ve asked me for more direction. Or she could’ve gotten a mentor.”
She knew that Bryan had suggested some of those things during her reviews. But to hear it put that way, in a snarling heap—and prefaced by Outlander, no less—was another story.
Kathy asked, “Why are you speaking as if she’s not in the room?”
“I can be frank. I’m not her boss anymore.”
“Okay, Frank,” Paul said to Bryan. “Funny, I seem to remember a point in time when you needed to take things more seriously, too. Middle school. High school. College.”
Oh, really?
Kathy said, “He and his brother were party-hardy animals when they weren’t rough-housing with each other. You should’ve seen the way those two fought over girls.” Her laugh sliced the air.
Bryan’s face blanched.
Paul added, “While Bryan here was in college, he wanted to spend his summers interning for this-and-that big company in New York and LA. No, sir-ee. I threw his partying ass over to Bill Tucker and had him working on the ranch down the road off Glen Creek. Bet you didn’t know that, did you?”
Jules locked eyes with Bryan. “Nope. I sure didn’t.”
Now she was the one grinning like a kid with a tell-tale secret. If Jules had met his parents sooner, that would've been juicy information to have had about her boss!
With color returning to his face, Bryan moved closer to the couch. “I’m not the only party animal in the room. Jules put on a huge, ridiculous party for JSA’s holiday. One of our VPs said it reminded him of The Wolf of Wall Street.”
Jules squinted at Bryan, her eyes pleading, What the hell?
Kathy’s hand flew to her chest in surprise. “Goodness. That was quite the movie.”
Paul’s deep voice rumbled. “Was there cocaine or something?”
“No,” Bryan answered.
"Were dwarves thrown on dart-boards?"
“Eh, no.”
“Big wads of cash flying around?”
"No," Bryan growled. "But she had a raffle drawing for an all-expense-paid trip to Napa Valley."
Kathy patted her neck. “Oh, that sounds lovely.”
Bryan continued gritting his teeth. “It was not approved. I’d be willing to bet that the company did not allocate for that type of expense. That was her doing.”
Jules spoke up. “He’s right. I did it. I rigged it so that the other guy who got laid off would have a nice Christmas gift for himself and his wife.”
Kathy reached out and put her hand on Jules’ shoulder. “Your heart was in the right place.”
Bryan wagged a finger. “Since you’re ‘fessing up, tell them about the Santa’s Helpers wearing those short skirts.” He drew a finger across his upper thigh. “And the half-naked Latino Santa.”
Paul nudged Kathy. “You would’ve liked that,” he muttered.
Bryan’s cheeks puffed, still focusing on Jules. “And tell them about the flash mob that was singing about Christmas and Ramadan.”
Kathy perked up. “How clever.”
“They sang in Yiddish, too,” Jules explained. “They’re all about inclusivity.”
“Very important these days.” Kathy nodded.
Jules could’ve sworn Bryan mumbled something like, "I can't believe it" or "You've gotta be kidding" or something along those lines. But Jules ignored it. She wouldn't let his bizarre behavior ruin her introduction with his parents.
Bryan made his way past the couch toward Jules’ suitcase. “I’m going to take your gym locker upstairs.”
Kathy leaned over to Jules. “He’s got a burr in his saddle today. Don’t mind him.”
Jules would take Kathy up on that. No reason to let him affect her Christmas. She was in Montana, looking out the window at the evergreen trees and hills in the distance, a blanket of snow covering the big lot of land around them. Inside the living room, the Christmas tree lights twinkled red, green, yellow, and white. And their adorable dog, Tigger, lay in front of the roaring fireplace, his chin resting over one paw.
Now, this was how Jules imagined Christmas.
And despite Bryan’s attitude, she was going to make the best of it.
Six
Bryan grabbed Jules' suitcase and took the stairs two at a time. If he didn't work out at the gym regularly, he'd have struggled to carry the weight of the bowling balls, concrete bricks, or whatever else Jules had packed. He placed her luggage in the Antler Room. Perhaps he should stay on the second floor for a while, away from the others. Who knew what would come out of his parents' mouths next?
If he'd known his mother would ask what his management style was like, he'd have bolted upstairs sooner. However, the response he'd overheard from the kitchen had flattered him. Jules considered him to be a fair and reasonable leader. That was nice to hear.
That was the only bright spot of the entire conversation. The rest made Bryan drag his fingers through his hair. He couldn't believe his mother was defending—defending!—Jules when it came to the holiday party. And why did his father spill the beans on Bryan's partying days from years past? Jules didn't need to know about that. Their relationship was a professional one. Boss-employee. She shouldn't know anything about his past.
Oh well. It was done now. He wasn't her boss anymore, no longer his "responsibility." She'd leave on December twenty-eighth, and he wouldn't have to worry about Julia Carmichael again.
The familiar sound of feet padding up the carpeted staircase caught his ear.
“Bryan?” his mother called down the hallway.
“In here.”
She appeared in the doorway. “We’re going to put up some more decorations. I wanted to remind you to put Jules’ Christmas present under the tree when you get a chance.”
Bryan’s eyes clamped shut. A Christmas present? “Crap.”
Kathy sighed. “You didn’t get her anything?”
“No,” he said, then repeated it with conviction, “No, I didn’t. Isn’t invading my holiday vacation enough of a present?”
“Invading? Goodness. She’s not an alien from Mars.” Kathy grinned a little. “I actually like her.”
“I noticed.”
“I hardly know her, but that’s my initial impression. She’s quite attractive, too.”
A flash of Jules in her short, tight, red sweater dress from the night of the holiday party sped through his mind. He recalled glancing at her legs when he gave her a ride that night, throwing her over his shoulder after she’d fallen asleep, accidentally brushing his hand against her thigh to keep her steady, laying her on the bed of his guest room, taking her sexy heels off of her slender feet, and slipping the covers over her…
Damn it.
He tried to wipe his face clean like an old school Etch-a-Sketch board. “No.”
But if Kathy had disliked her, it would've made it easier not to like her himself.
Laughter from Jules and Bryan’s father floated up from downstairs. The sound trickled from his ears down into his chest and gently nestled there.
Kathy replied, “If you get her a small gift, that would be nice. It would make up for you being so rude earlier. I’m almost ashamed.” She started to leave the room. “Southgate Mall’s still open. You should head over before it gets too late.”
He hadn’t bought a gift for a woman in years. Hopefully, it was like riding a bike.
Bryan grunted, and his mom said, "Hey. Give her a chance."
◆◆◆
Bryan pulled into a parking spot in front of the Southgate Mall, a far cry from the Tysons Corner and Pentagon City shopping meccas in Northern Virginia. But this mall had everything a shopper needed, including available parking spaces that weren’t a mile away. Bryan hopped out of the Jeep and stuffed his sheepskin hat over his head for the brief, cold walk to the mall entrance. Inside, a blast of heat warmed his core.
Venturing through the long hallway took him down memory lane. He’d hated going to the mall as a kid. But that changed later, when he cruised those same halls, looking for girls with his brother. Back then, he never would’ve guessed that he’d be visiting from the DC area, searching for a gift to give an employee he’d laid off. He shook his head at how unpredictable life could be.
He turned into Dillard’s, surveying the vastness of the store. Where should he start?
“Bryan?”
He knew who the voice belonged to before he saw Kaitlyn Swain’s face. He’d heard that voice a million times before. It brought him joy, love—and later, heartache. The words, “I’m not going with you,” had haunted Bryan for months after moving to DC by himself. The words haunted him every time he’d come back home to visit, wondering if he’d run into Kaitlyn. Sometimes their paths crossed; sometimes they didn’t. She’d always crossed his mind while he was in Missoula—even if the attached emotions had dissipated over time.