by Annie Adams
“Mom!” “Eleanor!” Alex and Jack shouted simultaneously.
“Who’s ready for hot chocolate?” K.C. came from the kitchen, her beard pulled down below her chin and her reading glasses propped on her Santa cap. She carried a tray full of mugs upon which a sparkly Victoria’s Secret gift bag teetered precariously on the edge. “And look what you’re hubba-hubba Secret Santa brought this time.” She bounced her white-flocked eyebrows, clicked her tongue then winked. “You had me fooled big fella. I didn’t think it was you, but obviously you’d be the only one to give the boss something like this. Hope you don’t mind, I took a little peek. Someone’s going to have some fun in that. I just don’t know how you managed to sneak it onto the porch—”
We all watched—at least one of us in excruciating terror—as K.C. took another step and the shopping bag fell, the contents spilling out in silky, lace-trimmed, horror.
“Oh, son,” Eleanor said, the disappointment in her voice practically palpable. “This is completely inappropriate. Just look at how she’s influenced you.” Her last words were wrenched out through mighty sobs as she wept over her corrupted son.
I stared, open mouthed at Alex only to find my astonished expression mirrored back.
“We should go,” Jack said, mercifully. “I’m sorry, ladies.” He ushered his wife out and gave Alex a look that said, “Sorry, pal. You’re on your own.” They’d have to commiserate later in Mantown.
“Merry Christmas?” K.C. called after them.
“I don’t know what to say here,” Alex said quietly.
“Don’t. Just go. Get her away from here.”
“Quincy—”
I retreated to my bedroom and shut the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I woke up early the morning after I was accused of being a whore. Actually, waking up would imply that I had slept. I hadn’t. Alex had called me after he got home with his parents. He apologized for his mother’s behavior and I apologized for making it easy for her to jump to conclusions. Then he apologized for what he was about to tell me—which is never going to be a pronouncement of something good—is it?
He hadn’t had a chance to tell me—what with all the lingerie and bare chested girlfriend trauma—that he would have to work all the next day. And the day after that too, which happened to be the same day as the city celebration and open house. He’d taken so much time off to be with his parents that he needed to make up for it on the job.
I shouldn’t have begrudged him that. Work was work. But this was a big day and I’d been so looking forward to spending it with him while we worked. I shouldn’t have begrudged his parents—especially his mother—either. But she’d made it so hard not to.
“I’m sorry, Q,” he said. “If I could just leave it for later, I would. But I’ve already been doing that and now everything’s piling up.”
I visualized the pile of people I’d lined up to help me for this open house who’d had to drop out. It was a big pile.
“Are you there?” he asked.
“I’m here. Don’t worry, it’s fine. If you gotta work, you gotta work. I get it.”
“What does fine mean?”
“Fine means fine,” I said.
“Uh, oh. When my mom says fine I know that means the opposite.”
I felt my nostrils flare. “Well, I’m not your mother. How about we not let her dominate another conversation?”
“Okay. Fine.” There was a long pause. “Who’s leaving lingerie on your doorstep?”
“It says Secret Santa on the tags. It’s a secret.”
“This isn’t funny, Quincy. It’s your demented ex-husband. I’m gonna go down there and find him—”
“It’s not him.”
“How do you know? Just because you called him and he said it wasn’t doesn’t mean you can trust him. You’re too gullible.”
“Wow.” Good thing I maybe-probably loved this guy or I wouldn’t still be talking to him.
I heard a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I’m just worried about you,” he said.
“I know you are. And I appreciate it. But please try not to worry. Randall wouldn’t know where to find a Victoria’s Secret if his life depended upon it. And even if he did, he would pass out once he saw the price tags. It wasn’t him. I’m guessing it’s a total mistake. Someone’s probably got the wrong house. I don’t have time to worry about Secret Santa anymore anyway. The open house is in two days.”
“So you want me pretend nothing’s wrong,” he said.
“Nothing is wrong. You don’t have to pretend anything—unless it involves me and you at your place and the thing that fell out of that Victoria’s Secret bag.”
I heard a little laugh. “You’re not playing fair. What if something happens? I won’t be there.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll call the police. Maybe Chad will respond to the call and he can see me with clothes on.”
“Not funny,” he said, his voice flat.
“I bet having the police at my house the last time Santa left a gift was enough to scare him away. He doesn’t know the real reason they came. If another gift shows up I’ll call you, okay?”
“Fine. But you’ll be careful?”
“Of course.” Careful was my middle name.
“Things sure haven’t gone the way I’d planned,” he said. “I wanted them to come and meet you and then—”
“You don’t have to say anything else. Alex, I want to get along with your parents—especially your mom. How about after the open house, the four of us get together before they leave and work everything out?”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
“Goodnight Officer Cooper.”
“Goodnight Miss McKay.”
I’d spent most of the night rehashing all of the terrible moments between me and Eleanor and imagining how I could have handled them differently. Then I thought about how I could possibly win her over before she left town. Then I worried about what would happen if I couldn’t, and what life would be like with Alex if she wouldn’t accept me. After that I wondered where his nickname came from and what it meant—it was a nice break from all the real worries. And then, I worried that Leaky might just get sick of being in the middle of me and his mom. I didn’t want to think about what choice he would make.
And then it was time to get ready for work. I remembered my winter coat before I left the house this time. Good thing I did, because it was downright cold. I exited through the front door, just in case the Secret Santa decided to do an encore. Nothing there but some fresh chocolate chip cookies! What a perfect breakfast. They took a little of the sting out of the memories from the day before.
The cookies were from the big family down the street. Each member of the family delivered their own present on a different day and they all used the same packaging. One of these days, after the city celebration, I would make a huge batch of something to take to all of my neighbors. Maybe I could enlist Alex and his cooking skills to help me, after his parents went home. That is, if they decided to return home. If Eleanor couldn’t detach the apron strings from around her Little Leaky’s jugular, I was in for some big problems and so was my romantic relationship.
The phone rang in my mother’s ring tone, which by total coincidence is Darth Vader’s theme song. Hey, I’m a Star Wars fan, alright? I knew she’d have a little fit since today was the day Allie was leaving. I was proud of her for calling me to vent instead of ruining Allie’s trip by being melodramatic with her. Maybe Mom had turned over a new leaf.
“Hi, Mom. How you holding up?”
“By a thread, Quinella. A thin, fragile, thread.”
Uh-oh. The full name. Something was wrong.
“I know you’re worried. But she’ll only be gone for a little while. It’ll fly by.”
“Don’t even try to change the subject, missy.” She’d pulled out the big guns with “missy.” I had no idea what I could have done. “I have to hear from Louise Thomas that the police were at your h
ouse last night. Did you go to jail again? She said there were prostitutes on your corner. What kind of people are you mixed up with? You know your friends are the biggest influence on your behavior. These people are going to ruin you, Quinella McKay. I’m going to send your father over to talk to you. You could go to prison, you know. Just by associating with known criminals…”
I put us on speaker and set the phone on the passenger seat while the lecture continued in its death spiral. The MLM had struck again. One tidbit from a member of the Mormon Ladies Mafia could be spread through the telephone calling tree system faster than a cold through a kindergarten class.
“Mom, calm down. The police were not at my house last night.” Technically, the car was parked around the corner in front of my neighbor’s house. “There were no prostitutes. I have no idea where that came from.”
“Louise said she could see a woman with trashy hair and makeup on your corner. Her pimp was dressed up like Santa.”
“You both watch too much TV. And that trashy woman was your daughter.” That hadn’t come out right. “I was dressed up in the elf costume that you sewed.”
“Are you sure? Because Louise said...”
“Louise Thomas is eighty-four and she lives six houses down!” I hated to talk on the phone and drive and it made a great excuse for hanging up. “I’ve got to go, I’m driving to work. Alex came over with his parents last night. Jack and Eleanor got to see—” They got to see everything including way too much of me.
“Oh!” The shift in tone was dizzying. “I didn’t realize the Coopers were there.” My mother had such a couples crush on the Coopers. They were as close to perfect as any non-Mormons could be, in her book. Which is why I brought them up. This wasn’t my first time around the interrogation block. No sir.
“Are you okay about Allie?”
“Honey, I’m fine. We’re so excited for her. If those judges don’t give her first place, they don’t deserve their jobs. Your father and I talked about going to see her. Maybe you could come too. We’ll talk later. Say hello to the Coopers for us.”
I sure would. If I ever saw them again. Which was doubtful.
Today was the day everyone would see me and K.C. on TV. A new surge of bile ruined my lovely chocolate chip cookie buzz. Maybe I could just turn off my cell phone and have Daphne screen all the calls at the shop.
My text message sound chirped. Too late. When I pulled into the back parking lot at the shop, I held my breath and read the message.
It read, “So fun! You look great and Santa is a hoot! Great job. Pam.”
I exhaled and read it again. Relief. At least one person on the committee wasn’t furious with me.
Daphne had already opened the store. After parking Zombie Sue in the back lot, I walked around the front of the building to take a last look at what customers would see the next day at the open house. A warm glow came from the large front window and the shop lights shined behind the flocking Allie had painted around the perimeters of the glass. A large, cheery wreath of fresh pine boughs and brightly colored, round and finial shaped ornaments hung on the front door.
As I entered, I could smell fresh pine and cinnamon and spice from the new line of candles displayed near the front of the showroom. The walls were adorned with thick garlands in pine, seeded eucalyptus, magnolia leaves and holly. The garland peaked at different intervals throughout the shop, each one set with a bow and multiple streamers in burgundy, green and gold. Ornaments of different sizes, shapes and colors dangled from the garland, catching and reflecting the sparkling light.
The display cooler was packed with different sized arrangements in holiday colors. Christmas music played softly over the speakers. I was so proud of the welcoming environment my staff had created over the past month. It had been a lot of hard work, on top of the increase of regular business that always came with the holiday season.
“You’re here early,” I said to Daphne.
“Yeah, I wanted to get a jump on this wedding. They’re picking it up tomorrow, right?”
“The maid of honor will pick up the personal flowers tomorrow around eleven, and then K.C. will deliver the centerpieces after the Santa appearance.”
“Oh my goodness! That reminds me. I saw you on the early news this morning.”
I cringed.
“Oh, stop. You were so cute! And who was that Santa? Fred, right?”
“You’re kidding.”
“It’s wasn’t Fred?” she asked.
“That was K.C. She showed up as Santa.”
“No way! She’s awesome as Santa.”
K.C. seemed to have magical powers. Just when I think we’ve walked into a field of cow pies, K.C. just works her magic or sprinkles her fairy dust or whatever it is she does, and it looks as if we’ve left a pasture full of daisies.
The wedding flowers the bride had chosen were mostly white with touches of red. We made boutonnieres and corsages out of white dendrobium orchids, stephanotis, cedar and eucalyptus. The bridesmaid bouquets were composed of different sizes of roses ranging from stark white to cream to almost a desert sand color. They were hand-tied designs, the stems covered in rich, crimson red, satin ribbon.
K.C. arrived and helped put together the centerpieces while Daphne worked on orders for delivery. The centerpieces consisted of billowy white hydrangea, Douglas fir, holly—we wore gardening gloves to avoid cutting our hands—and fiery crimson roses in clear glass cubes.
The bride had chosen a cascading bouquet for herself. White oriental lilies, roses and orchids made up the base of the flowing design. We topped it all off with stephanotis with diamond pins in the centers and accented with red pepper berry and Italian ruscus. The final touches were delicate strands of crystal beading, looped throughout and dripping down to form teardrop shaped caging around the bouquet. It was a showcase quality arrangement which would be pictured prominently on our website as soon as the community celebration was behind us.
K.C. was leaving for deliveries as I left for our final committee meeting before the big day. As she came down the steps she stopped midway.
“Shoot, I forgot the delivery slip for this one.” Her hands were full with a low centerpiece and an arrangement in a vase. My hands were full with a box of thank you cards all the committee members would pass around and take turns signing to send out to all the event sponsors. She put the centerpiece down on the table I used to climb up to the ladder on the back of the building. The table shifted with the weight of the flowers.
“You have to distribute the weight evenly,” I said. “Here.” I put one of the boxes of cards down on the other side of the table and it became level again.
“Isn’t this the thing you use to climb up there?” She pointed to the roof.
“Yep.”
“Why don’t you just use the ladder I used the other day?”
“It’s a pain to get the landlord’s handyman to drive down here and unlock the shed so I can make a short trip up there. Besides, I’ve got a system that works. With my system I don’t have to wait for hours to get my compressor going again. And it’s a good thing I’ve got my system, because last time we had the ladder, you were on it. I was on the roof and back again before you’d hung two ornaments.”
“Why not just buy a ladder?”
I shrugged. “No need. The system.”
Once at Skinny’s, I walked to our usual corner booth. It seemed like everyone in the diner was smiling at me and whispering to each other. One teenaged girl pointed and her whole table of friends giggled.
I looked down to see if I’d worn the elf costume and forgotten.
“There she is, the internet star has arrived,” Duff Schneider said. I noticed Pam biting her lip.
“Oh, you mean the news thing?” I said.
“No, he means your internet video,” Jan Jorgenson said.
“What are you talking about?” I had a feeling I was about to be embarrassed.
“Oh hush, you two,” Pam said. “Quincy, hon, Elma’s been show
ing a video on her phone. She claims it’s you and your boyfriend…”
“Nooo.” I plunked down in the booth next to Pam. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Duff was all too excited to show me the video on YouTube from his iPad. I gasped when I saw video footage of me making out with Alex in my parents’ kitchen. It must have been from Elma’s phone. I don’t know how she snuck into my parents kitchen without me seeing her, but I had been fairly preoccupied at the time. I felt the tips of my ears broiling.
“Well, we’ve still got important things to talk about today, haven’t we?” I glared at Jan and Duff and the rest of the smirking committee.
Elma came over to our table, grinning. Her hair was piled extra high today. “I thought you were banned, Quincy.”
I stood and we had a staring contest for a few minutes. I felt a twitch under my eye, like Clint Eastwood in a gun-slinger movie. “You’ve sure got a funny way of banning someone from your place. You’ve been showing my video to everyone who walks in the door. Seems you like having me around.”
“Oh you wish,” she said, staring at me, unmoving. “I just like watching that hot boyfriend of yours in action. Rumor is he’ll be dumping your sorry butt soon. His mother can’t stand you, from what I saw.” She looked at me like she’d gone checkmate. The room had become silent as we had our stare down, but the crowd responded to her jab with dramatic oohs.
“Speaking of boyfriends, has Ned shown you his booger collection yet?”
That got ewws from the crowd rather than oohs.
“Boogers!” An old-timer growled from his bar stool at the counter. “You getting’ boogers in my food Elma?” He pushed his plate away and stepped down off the stool. “I’m not having it. I don’t want any damn boogers in my food.”
“Elma!” Skinny yelled from the kitchen, his red face filling the order-up window. “Knock it off! George, get back here, I’ll make you something new. On the house.”