by Rene Penn
Ryan passed a soft grin.
A door opened, and a scattering of voices flooded the mudroom. Shoes stomped on the doormat, and coats swished while being removed. The kids shouted with excitement from their adventure. And Kathy, Paul, and Bryan popped into the kitchen, all smiles, especially when they saw Ryan.
“Sorry I got here so late, guys,” he said between hugs. “One of the cows went into labor as soon as I headed my way earlier. That had me tied up the rest of the morning.”
Montana-hot Ryan helped deliver a calf? You’ve got to be kidding me.
The brothers fake-jabbed each other, and Ryan rounded Bryan into a headlock, saying, "Look what the cat dragged in."
“Cool it, boys,” Paul muttered.
Kathy headed toward the oven, ignoring the others. “How’s the meat looking?”
Ryan let go of Bryan and blurted out, “Before you do that…the power went out.”
Kathy’s face fell, and Jules’ heart puddled at her feet.
She opened her mouth to speak, to confess, when Ryan interrupted her. “It may have been the Christmas tree. We’re not sure. Jules didn’t know where the breaker box was, of course. So when I came in, I took care of it.”
He locked his gaze with Jules', putting her under a trance. Her head bobbed involuntarily, nodding yes in agreement.
He turned back to Kathy, whose cheeks resembled the pale turkey. “Do you know when the power went out?” she asked Jules.
Jules swallowed. “I think it was a while ago.”
Shirley entered the kitchen. “What’s going on?” Bud came in next.
"Power went out." Paul opened the oven door. "Uh, oh."
“Do I want to look?” moaned Kathy.
Cousin Helena popped into the room next. “What’s happening?”
Who else was coming into the kitchen? The rest of the neighborhood? The entire city?
“I guess we lost power for a little while.” Kathy slapped a hand on the countertop. “I knew I should’ve stayed.”
A hundred pairs of eyes stared at Jules. She wanted to shrink behind Ryan’s lumberjack frame.
“Well, when are we gonna get to eat?” Bud asked.
Shirley whirled at her husband. “Bud!”
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“No,” Jules jumped in. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
Paul held up a hand. “No. It’s not anybody’s fault but the crappy electricity.”
Jules swallowed another invisible prune, and she noticed the way Kathy avoided eye contact with her. The brownie points that cha-chinged like a casino earlier now petered out like a broken toy.
Kathy said, “Could take an extra hour or two until we eat.”
Little Bonnie squirmed between her mother’s legs and moaned, “But I’m hungry.” Clara clasped a hand over her daughter’s mouth.
Bryan walked over to Jules with a scrunched brow. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Jules froze at the question. She couldn't tell him she'd fallen asleep. Things with him had been going so well. She was having a fantastic Christmas so far, sharing it with a guy who was interested in her on a holiday, not tossing her aside like dead weight.
A hundred pairs of eyes stared, waiting for a response. Even the teenagers stopped tinkering with their phones to gawk at her.
“You know what?” Bryan’s brother said. “None of that matters at this point, right? How about I go out and see what I can come up with?”
Protests roared throughout the kitchen:
“No…”
“You just got here…”
“The stores may not even be open…
“I’ll go with you,” said Bryan.
“It’s okay, bro. You’re on vacation. Hang out here with the fam and relax.”
“I’ll go,” Jules offered.
She needed to make this right with the family and to keep from losing momentum with Bryan. Because she didn't like the way he looked at her right now. He had the face of a boss, a boss with a three-out-of-five stars' employee.
◆◆◆
“Okay. Grab your coat.” Ryan smiled at Jules, and then she sprinted off.
Bryan glanced at his brother, noting the way Ryan’s gaze lingered in Jules’ direction.
Something was off. Or not right. Or something.
Or maybe he didn't like the way Ryan looked at Jules. He didn't want Ryan to look at Jules at all. But she was pretty, cute, bubbly, and sweet. And one could only ignore her if she put a bag over her head.
An emotion settled in his bones: Jealousy.
How dumb. Why be jealous? He and Jules weren’t together. They’d kissed, sure, but only once. They hadn’t talked about it or discussed whether it meant anything to either of them. He thought it meant something. Maybe he was wrong?
Screw it. He should go with them.
Before he could sort out his conflicting thoughts, Jules showed up, wearing the coat he got her for Christmas. She walked with Ryan out the door without him.
His coat. His brother. His girl!
Pluck, pluck, pluck. The violin of jealousy played until Ryan and Jules returned more than an hour later.
The two came back with bags and a fully cooked turkey.
His mom peeled back some of the foil covering and beamed at Jules and Ryan. “How did you guys manage to get this? On Christmas day, no less.” She put a hand to her chest. “Thank you both.”
Bryan peeked over his mom's shoulder. A golden-brown turkey sat on a disposable tray, juices still bubbling on the pan. "Where'd you get this?" He didn't mean to frown, but he couldn't help it. Jules was too busy taking off her coat, so she may not have heard. But he repeated the question for his brother. "How did you guys get this?"
Astonishment at the feat was an understatement.
Ryan winked back. “Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.” And he pecked a kiss on their mother’s head. “Merry Christmas, Ma.”
◆◆◆
At dinner, Bryan surveyed the food that stretched down the twelve-person table—mashed potatoes, stuffing, creamed spinach, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, salad, and two kinds of rolls. And the last-minute turkey, of course. The ham didn’t finish baking in time for dinner, but it would make great ham sandwiches for the rest of the week, Kathy had assured everyone.
Jules stared at Bryan’s plate—or what little remained—with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen you eat this much before.”
Chuckles from the group showed they were surprised by her statement. His brother said, “Tell us, Jules, what does he usually eat?”
How would she know? Outside of the occasional team outings, they didn’t have lunch together.
"Sandwiches and protein bars," Jules replied correctly. She'd been paying more attention to him at work than he realized—a pleasant surprise.
He’d watched her during dinner, how she’d licked her lips in delight during her meal, how much he’d wanted to kiss them, how she’d curled her hair a little differently, soft wisps accentuating her face—
His brother must’ve noticed the same thing, because he looked at her, too. A lot.
“Don’t forget, there’s dessert,” Kathy said.
Helena asked, “What desserts do we have?”
“Let’s see. There’s pumpkin pie, apple pie, ice cream, and cheesecake.”
Bryan perked up. “Cheesecake?”
Bud patted his wife’s arm. “Yep. Shirley made it.”
That elicited sighs of approval from around the table. Shirley’s homemade cheesecakes were the best Bryan had ever tasted.
Shirley said, “I made a strawberry glaze to go with it.” She laughed at the new collective sigh that swept across the room, this one more animated than the first.
“Boys,” Kathy said to her sons, “can you help me get the dessert ready?”
“I can help,” Jules offered.
Before Bryan could reply, his brother said, “No, we’ll take care of it” and smiled. Not just any smile. His flirtati
ous smile.
Every guy has more than one smile. There’s the smile you have with family, the smile you have when you’re joking with your buddies, and the smile you have with women. Bryan knew his brother had flashed the latter to Jules.
The guys pushed their chairs back in unison, the wooden legs swishing against the rug. They started collecting plates as the group broke off into small conversations around the table.
Had something happened between Ryan and Jules? They hadn’t spent much time alone together. Hell, Bryan had known Jules two years before something happened. It would be like Ryan to make the same amount of progress in a fraction of the time. Bristling inside, Bryan set a few plates and silverware in the sink with a clatter.
Kathy shot him a look. "Hey. I know it's not Williams-Sonoma, but take it easy."
Bryan grumbled and changed the subject. "Dinner was good, Mom. Thanks."
“I wasn’t so sure at first, with the turkey and all.”
“Even with that, everything turned around great.”
Kathy wrinkled her brow. “Well, I was ticked off at myself for leaving things for someone else to look after.” Bryan got ready to defend Jules, when she added, “But Jules and Ryan saved the day.”
Jules and Ryan.
Hmph. Bryan closed a cabinet door with more force than he intended, eliciting another warning look from his mother.
While Kathy placed the desserts on the dining room table, the brothers finished washing the remaining dishes in the kitchen.
“About Jules,” Ryan said. The hair on Bryan’s arms perked like tiny antennas. “I asked her earlier if anything was going on with you guys, and she said you just worked together. Is that right?”
A plate slipped from Bryan’s hand as he hovered over the dishwasher. He picked it up quickly, glad that nothing broke. He arranged the plate on the bottom rack between tight fingers. He thought things had become a little more than that, but he must’ve thought wrong. Who was he to put words in Jules’ mouth?
Bryan swallowed the bitter taste of letdown. “Yeah, we worked together.”
“That’s too bad,” his brother said, “She seems nice. Cute, too.”
“Sure.” Bryan sounded nonchalant.
His brother had been fishing for a reaction, like they used to do when they were younger, when they had their eye on the same girl.
Bryan’s dishwasher-loading speed kicked into double-time as he practically threw things onto the racks. He kept his eyes away from his brother, hoping he wouldn’t break any glasses by accident.
◆◆◆
Jules savored a slice of Shirley’s homemade cheesecake with strawberry glaze. It was as amazing as the others let on. “A combination and recipe that could put Mrs. Smith’s out of business,” Jules told Shirley. She also had a tiny piece of pumpkin pie and felt a lot less guilty to see that she wasn’t the only one having a double-dessert. If you couldn’t overindulge during the holidays, then when could you? Besides, she was happy that things were going so well with Bryan. And Kathy seemed to have warmed back up since the power-outage mishap earlier.
She said to Jules, "We're going to drive around after dinner on Christmas and see the lights. Do you want to join us?"
Yes, things were looking up.
“Sounds great. I’m in.”
Twenty minutes later, everyone stood in the garage, figuring out how to divvy up the large group into the available cars. One of the couples had decided to call it a night and gave hugs to everyone. They told Jules how much they enjoyed meeting her and would see her again the next day.
Once they departed, twelve people remained in the group. “We can fit four comfortably in three cars,” Paul surmised.
Jules followed Bryan toward Kathy and Paul’s Jeep. Little Bonnie dodged the crowd of adult limbs to attach herself to Bryan’s side.
“I want to go with you.” She smiled up at him.
Bryan tousled the top of her blonde hair. “Okay, kiddo.”
Bonnie’s mom, Clara, said, “I should probably ride with you guys then.”
“Wait,” Kathy said, glancing at and Bryan.
“Jules, you’ll be okay riding in another car, right?” asked Bryan.
“Sure,” she chirped.
Jeez, she hadn’t expected him to kick little Bonnie or cousin Clara aside to make sure there was room in the car for her. But still…
He could’ve been a bit more… upset? Disappointed? Saddened that she wouldn’t be riding with him?
"My car has room," a deep voice said behind her.
She turned to see Ryan pointing a finger toward the driveway. Bryan didn’t say a word.
Disappointment crept into Jules’ belly, but she smiled back at Ryan. “Thanks.” She followed him to the pick-up parked behind the garage.
Cousin Helena insisted that her husband Dave ride in the front with Ryan, while Jules sat in the backseat with her. “So we can chitchat.”
They piled into Ryan’s Dodge Ram, and the caravan of cars set off, with Paul and Kathy leading the way. They passed Bud and Shirley’s place, another beautiful cabin a few acres away. White lights sloped over the steepled roof and wrapped around mature trees in the yard.
“How long are you and Bryan staying?” Helena asked Jules.
“Until the twenty-seventh.”
“Quick trip.”
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome. And I think Bryan said he has to get back to work.”
Ryan’s eyes flickered at her in the rear-view mirror.
He turned down a road lined with trees on each side, and then made a left into a new neighborhood. They slowed down just as a flood of Christmas colors filled the car. Jules pressed her nose against the window, gawking at the dazzling lights.
One lawn illuminated red-and-white candy canes in all shapes and sizes. Santa, reindeer, and sleigh balloons sat on the yard next door. A nativity scene lay on the lawn of another large home. Three houses on a cul-de-sac had teamed up to display the words, "Up," "Up," and "Away." The letters sparkled in green, red, and gold, their reflections shimmering in the white snow.
Ryan said to Jules, “Have you been cooped up in the house the whole time you’ve been here?”
“No. We went for a walk yesterday. It’s been nice to relax.”
“Maybe Bryan and I can show you around Missoula sometime. I know it’s not DC, but…”
Jules met Ryan’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. The twinkling lights from outside made his eyes shine.
“That’ll be nice,” Helen said.
Dave looked at Ryan’s profile then glanced at Jules in the backseat. He squinted but said nothing.
“Sure,” Jules said casually. “Thanks.”
Ryan had been super-nice, like the rest of the family. He jumped in before she admitted the power outage was all his fault. And he drove her around town until they found a cooked turkey. He helped pave her road to redemption with Kathy, and their efforts succeeded.
But all of that was over. And Ryan’s kindness continued. Was there more to it than just Blakely family hospitality?
She pushed aside the feeling, focused on the Christmas carols playing through the car speakers, and wished Bryan were there to enjoy the wonderful lights with her.
Ten
Bryan stumbled downstairs the next morning with only one eye open. Christmas was always fun, but it wore him out. It had been a long day of heavy eating, talking, movie-watching, sledding, riding around neighborhoods, and—thanks to Jules’ gift for the family—playing Pictionary with everyone until after midnight.
He yawned, plugged in the coffee grinder, and turned on the coffee pot. He opened the bag of beans that Jules gave him. He sniffed the cocoa aroma, still happy about the present. But he wasn't as excited as the previous morning.
His enthusiasm had continued to wane ever since Ryan showed up. During Pictionary the night before, his brother had found a way to jockey himself onto Jules' team. She'd been the only one to guess Ryan's clues, and he'd high-fived her with more
enthusiasm than necessary.
Bryan's gaze toggled between them, slicing the air with his lashes, watching for signs, signals, and stolen glances. It appeared to be more one-sided, from Ryan's direction to hers. But maybe Jules had been sneaky, hoping not to hurt Bryan's feelings. He shook the thought away and poured the beans into the grinder. His mom entered the kitchen, looking more tired than him.
“I’m surprised you’re up already. With all the cooking and hosting, you should be getting extra rest today.”
“That was the plan.” She folded her arms over her bathrobe.
“What’s wrong?”
She exhaled. “I woke up to the smell of marijuana this morning.”
“What?”
Her lip curled in disgust. “The smell made its way into our room somehow and woke me up.”
“Where was it coming from?”
She shrugged. "I went around the house and couldn't figure it out." She shoved her hands in the robe's pockets. "I walked by Jules' room. But I didn't want to barge in and see if it was her."
Bryan blinked. “You thought it was Jules?”
"Well…" She untied the belt on her robe and looped it tighter. "Everyone else has stayed with us before, and I've never smelled weed. She's the only new guest. The new smell must be because of the new guest. Have you ever noticed anything at work?"
“No,” he defended.
“She didn’t fail any drug tests that you guys give, right?”
“Absolutely not.” The volume of his voice raised a notch. “She wouldn’t have been hired if that were the case.”
“Okay.” She opened the cabinet where the mugs were kept, hesitating before grabbing the Like a Boss mug Jules had given him.
Noticing her movement, he said, “What?”
“You should talk to her. Let her know that habit isn’t welcome here.”
He took the cup from his mom. “I don’t think it’s her, Mom.”
“Who else would it be?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.” He thought of all the houseguests there. “Maybe Tyler or Tarron picked up the habit,” he said of his teenage cousins.
“I thought of that, too. I went downstairs to check, and they were both drooling on the basement sectional. It’s not them,” she said with finality. “Talk to her. I don’t want your father getting involved. You know he’s not as tolerant as I am.”