by J. M. Adele
Heat blasted from the vents of his truck as his wipers cleared away the falling snow. It was Grey’s first white Christmas. Sure, it was pretty, but driving in the frosty weather sucked. His headlights barely cut through the haze, and he had to flex his fingers to stop them from going numb. He’d been too chicken to brave the crowds and buy himself a decent coat. Some things about city life, he could gladly do without. Draped across his lap, his Nonna’s old blanket was doing a fine job of keeping away the chill and reminding him of Christmases at home on the ranch. He rolled with the nostalgia, choosing the best memories rather than recalling his hasty exit and his father’s contempt. He couldn’t have picked a better way to spend his first Christmas in Boston, cooking Christmas dinner for a select few with his uncle. Except maybe if he was coming home with Chelsea beside him, so he could unwrap her and indulge in his wildest fantasies all night. Now that would’ve been the perfect Christmas. No doubt she was enjoying her time with her mama. Feeling a pinch in his chest, he rubbed his sternum and shifted his attention back to the flutter of white clogging his wipers.
As he pulled up to Matteo’s house, the headlights swept across the front stoop where he thought he saw a dark figure huddled against the cold. Leaving the car idling in the driveway, he got out to take a closer look, his boots crunching in the blanket of flakes.
The figure stretched to its full height, draped in a heavy coat with a hood, gloves and boots, he couldn’t make out who the mystery figure was until his boot landed on the bottom step and Lory’s pale face was revealed.
“Lory! For Christ’s sake, you’ll catch your death. Come here.” Circling his hands on her waist, he carried her to the truck, depositing her on the seat and covering her with the blanket, before hopping in and slamming the door. “What are you doing here?” He punched the button on the garage remote, waiting impatiently for it to let them into the warmth.
“Merry Christmas to you too, Grey.” Her teeth chattered as she spoke.
“Sorry, topolina. Merry Christmas. How long have you been sitting there? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Why aren’t you home with your family?” He pulled on the hand brake, but left the car running so they still had heat.
“An hour, or so. I wanted to see you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s fine. Fine.”
“Uh huh. Totally convincing. Let’s get into the warm house and you can tell me what’s going on.”
Helping her out of the car, he led her up the staircase, feeling the temperature rise as they went higher into the living areas.
“The bathroom is through there. I’ll light the fire and make us some hot chocolate. We’ve got some Christmas pudding somewhere too. Would you like some?”
“Could I just have some tea and crackers? I don’t know if I can stomach anything heavy at the moment.”
A crease folded between his brows. Lory loved hot chocolate and Christmas pudding. “Yeah, sure. We should have some tea somewhere.”
He got busy heating the water and building a fire while she disappeared into the bathroom.
For a long time.
Too long.
He made the tea and went to check on her, tapping a knuckle on the door.
“Lory? Are you okay, in there?”
“Be—” Coughing cut off her voice. “Be there in a minute.”
“Are you sick?”
More coughing, but no answer. Gripping the handle, he jiggled it.
Locked. Damn it.
Going back to the kitchen, he searched the drawers for something pointy that he could use to unlock the door from the outside. Just as he pulled out a safety pin, she shuffled into the living room and sank into a seat beside the fire.
“Sorry. It’s been a long day. I guess it all caught up to me.”
“That’s okay. You had me worried.” The pin tinged against the jumble of odd bits and pieces as he threw it back in and slammed the drawer shut. Picking up their drinks, and a plate of crackers, he went to sit on the sofa across from her, handing her the cup.
“Thanks.”
Her smile was too tight, skin too pale. She’d lost weight. What the fuck was going on?
“Do I need to ask again?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“You’re what?”
“Preg. Nant.”
He put his cup on the table and leaned back into the seat.
Wrapping her trembling hands around the warm cup, she blew on the hot liquid, dispersing the steam. His mind ticked over as he registered every altered detail between slow blinks. Her pullover hung limp on her shoulders, and her skinny jeans were too baggy. The blood vessels spread a spidery web over the whites of her dull blue eyes. She wasn’t well.
Grey’s hands clenched into fists, and he shoved to his feet. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“Kill who, Grey? Sit down. It’s midnight on Christmas Day.”
“Jake Johnson. That sonofabitch.”
“It’s not his.”
He plonked his ass back down and fixed a questioning gaze on hers. “Who, then?”
She chomped down on her bottom lip and stared into her cup. “Toni. Toni is the father.”
“Toni? As in Antonio, my brother, Antonio?”
Her eyes flicked to his briefly before locking on to the flickering flames.
Shit. “I told him to look after you, not climb on top of you. Holy hell.” Locking his hands behind his head, he dragged them down his neck, and shoved out a breath. “Does anyone else know?”
“Toni knows.” The corner of her mouth quirked with sarcasm.
“How did he take the news?”
“The same way you did, but with shorter hair.”
Dropping his arms, his hands slapped on his thighs and he gave her a rueful smile. “Sorry. It’s a shock. He can’t have been too surprised. He was there when it happened.”
“I was on the pill. We were careful.”
Grey let that stew for a while, fixing his eyes on the way she clung to her cup.
“So, it was a matter of wait and see?”
Her head dipped once. “Yes. Neither of us thought it would actually happen.”
“Well, it has. So, what’s he gonna do about it?”
“What do you mean, what’s he gonna do about it? I’m the pregnant one, not him.”
“He might not be carrying the bun, but he’s responsible for putting it there, and he damn well better look after you while it bakes. I can’t believe he let you travel in your state. Have you been eating at all? Your family must’ve noticed.” His concerns came barreling out of his mouth in an uncharacteristic jumble.
“I’ve been busy elsewhere at meal times. Toni doesn’t know I’m here.”
“You just took off?”
“Kinda, yeah. I told Clay I was coming to surprise you. Toni probably knows by now.”
As if he knew they were talking about him, her phone lit up with Antonio’s number where it sat on the coffee table.
“It’s him,” she croaked, eyes flooding with tears.
“I’ll handle it. You drink your tea. There’s a spare room, second door on the left, up the stairs. Help yourself. It’s late.”
She nodded, taking her cup with her.
He punched a finger on the answer button, growling into the phone, “What the fuck have you done?”
“Grey. So, she made it there safely. Thank God. Is she okay?”
“No, she’s not okay. She’s pregnant, you idiot. Do you know how sick she’s been?”
“I know. It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Oh, well that’s a relief, because if you’d planned it, I’d have to put your balls through the meat grinder.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“What the fuck did I do? I didn’t go dipping my stick where it wasn’t wanted.”
“She wanted me. She wants me. She was finally over you and she wants me. You left her. It crushed her, Grey. You never saw how much she loved you. She had
her future all wrapped up in you, but you were too wrapped up in yourself to see it.” Antonio paused, huffing a humorless laugh down the line. “I have loved her since we were kids, but our parents had you two pegged from the beginning. I never stood a chance, until you were out of the picture.”
His entire childhood replayed in his mind, but with the benefit of a new perspective. Antonio following them everywhere. Antonio coming to Lory’s aid when Grey figured she didn’t need any help. Grey catching Lory watching him before she shot her eyes elsewhere. Antonio doing the same with Lory. He’d been a blind dick.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“Would you have listened? What would you have done?”
“I never would’ve carried on with the farce to keep everyone else happy if I knew it was hurting you so badly. I was trying to do the right thing. I told her early on that I had plans, and that I didn’t feel that way about her. I thought she felt the same, and we were both just humoring our parents.”
“The only person having a laugh was you.”
Fuck. Pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, he hunched his shoulders, squeezing his eyes closed.
“Where is she?” The question was quiet, like Antonio had lost his strength and needed to have her back.
“She’s gone to bed. She was exhausted, and sick.”
“I’m coming to get her.”
Grey folded his body onto the sofa again, rubbing a hand over his chin. “I don’t think she wants to see you.”
“Fuck you, Grey. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Just let me talk to her, okay? She obviously needed to get away for a bit, so give her this time to sort herself out. She’s making a huge adjustment.”
“Yeah, no shit. It’s a huge adjustment for the both of us. But I’m happy about it. I want this baby more than anything. I love her so much. Tell her that for me?”
“I’ll tell her … Buon Natale.”
“Ha, yeah. Merry fucking Christmas to you too.”
The call disconnected. Grey placed it on the table, resting his elbows on his knees, and watched the fire flicker for what felt like hours. How blind had he been? How much had he hurt his childhood friend and his brother?
Swiveling his head, he took in the opulence of the room. Worthy of a magazine cover, it was beautiful and pristine. Unlived in and fucking cold. They didn’t even have a Christmas tree. It was Christmas night and Matteo wasn’t home by the fireplace with his family. He was at Abbiocco, sorting through a mountain of work. Was this what Grey had uprooted his life for?
After sleeping with Chelsea in his arms, he wasn’t so sure. He could still feel the echo of her, the way she’d molded to him, deep in sleep and unaware of the unguarded message her body was sending. She needed him every bit as fiercely as he needed her, but as soon as her brain engaged, she backed off, scared out of her wits. Good. He was under her skin where he wanted to be. But now she was across the country in Alabama.
His biggest competition.
Last night, he’d reached for her, finding only cool sheets beside him. Her absence struck his soul, registering a missing piece that needed to be found. Without her, sleep had eluded him, and fatigue now swamped his weary body. His eyes landed on the stairs he had to conquer before he could collapse, his mind thinking of the woman sleeping above. His brother was probably feeling the same without Lory.
Poor bastard …
Lucky sonofabitch.
Grey was going to be an uncle. Lips spreading in a grin, he thought, now that’s something to be fucking happy about. That’s life and that’s real.
He had a lot of shit to sort out.
_____
“Merry Christmas, Mama!”
Chelsea dashed from her room to give her mom a huge hug, finding her at the range, cooking a delicious breakfast.
“Oh, Merry Christmas, honey. It’s so nice to see your face.”
Peeking over her mom’s shoulder, Chelsea inhaled the aroma of bacon and eggs.
“Yum, but can’t we open the presents first?”
“It’s always the same with you. Every year. Presents first, stomach later.”
“Priorities, Mama.” Diving under the tree, she found the presents she’d bought for her mom and placed them beside her on the bench top.
“I don’t want to burn the breakfast. You go get your present and open that first.”
“Okay.”
The branches scratched at her back as she crouched down again, pine needles falling around her, and the bells on the tree jingling. Spotting an unwrapped UPS box, she pulled that out first, curious who it was for. It was addressed to her, the writing strangely familiar.
“What’s this?” She held up the parcel.
“I don’t know. It came yesterday. It looks like it came from Massachusetts.”
“Boston?”
“I think so. Open it.”
She took it to the kitchen, finding a knife to slice through the tape. Inside the box was a simple white box with the words Manolo Blahnik written on top. Her breath caught and her heart rocketed behind her ribs.
“No,” she breathed.
“What? What is it?” Her mom peeked over her shoulder. “Is that a shoe box?”
“Oh yeah. It’s the shoe box.”
Opening the lid, she found a note on top of the tissue paper.
Babe, Merry Christmas.
I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.
P.S. Express postage is a bitch. You’re welcome.
D x
She squealed, tucking the note in the side of the box so she could fold back the tissue paper.
“Ooh, pretty,” her mom cooed.
“Aren’t they divine?”
“They look expensive, honey. Who on Earth is sending you a gift like that?”
Her gut twisted. Dane shouldn’t be spending an obscene amount of his money on her. It didn’t matter that he was loaded and only worked at the restaurant to keep himself occupied.
“My friend, Dane. We had a little wager. It was his idea.”
Lame, Chelsea. Lame.
The only reason she’d won the bet was because she’d completely freaked when Grey’s stare had reached inside her, doing irrevocable damage to the lock on her heart.
She was undeniably in love with him.
Shit, fuck, shit.
Her mama’s brows headed for her hairline. “What kind of wager?”
She put the lid back on the box. “It doesn’t matter. I wonder if I can return them?”
“Shoes? I’d say not.”
“Well, then, I owe him a day at the spa.”
“How are you going to afford that?”
“I’ve been saving as much as I can. It’ll be fine. I owe him. Dane is a good friend.” She took out some plates. “Are we going to eat? I’m starving.”
Her mama loaded up the plates and they took them to the living room so they could eat beside the tree.
“I didn’t think you’d be that hungry after your midnight rummage through the cupboards.”
Chelsea’s jaw faltered mid chew. “Did I wake you? Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”
“You always sleep like a log when you come home. What’s on your mind?”
The masticated egg may as well have been pebbles the way it went down. She didn’t want to think about Grey, or the fact that she’d gone and fallen in love. She especially didn’t want to tell her mama about the confrontation with her father, and that she’d gotten so drunk hours of her life were missing from her memory. Lord knows what she’d have done if Grey hadn’t looked after her. Her face screwed up at the thought.
“Good Lord, child, is it that bad?”
Yeah. She put her plate on the table and snapped her teeth together, refusing to answer.
“Ya know, I could always tell you were fine when your mouth moved a mile a minute. It was when you buttoned up that I worried. You haven’t said lickety split about that fella of yours. I thought maybe I’d get to meet him this
Christmas.”
“What? No. We’re not—” She rubbed two fingers over her forehead, sorting her jumbled thoughts. “We might be. I don’t know what we are. I think I’ve fallen in love with him … I have fallen in love with him. But, we’re on two different paths. He’s headed for The Big Apple, and I’m comin’ home after graduation.” Chelsea tossed up her hands in a gesture of hopelessness. “I never wanted anything serious with a man, but I think Grey and I have gone past the point of keeping it no-strings. If I go there with him, I won’t be able to let him go, and that means the life I had planned would be gone forever. I’d hardly ever see you, or the Murphys. I can’t see how that would make me happy. It’s a no-win situation.”
Stuffing a piece of bacon in her mouth to plug it up, she chewed fiercely, reducing her dilemma to a masticated mush that she could swallow.
“Ask me how to bake a cake, or how to make a flower out of powdered sugar, and I can tell you. Ask me about men, and I haven’t a clue, sweetie.” Mama wiped her mouth with a napkin and dropped it on her plate, leaning back. “When you started runnin’ around with boys, I just about pitched a continuous conniption fit for two years before I decided enough was enough. And what happened to Beth …” She paused, raising red eyes to the ceiling to avert tears. “That could’ve been you. Moving to ‘Bama was the best decision I made. I’m just sorry it caused so much upheaval for the Murphys.”
“You couldn’t have known what would happen, Mama.”
“I know. I tell myself that every time I see those kids with their mama. You know how much I love you. You have been my life. Despite how you were conceived, I thank the Lord every day for the gift of you. I’ve been content not to have a man in my life. And seeing you now, I am thankful I never had to choose between you and the love of a man. But, given my experience, I would have chosen you, honey. Every time. But how can I give you advice on this situation when I’ve never been where you are? If the right man came along, maybe I would run away with him.” A giggle escaped. “Who knows? You know who you should talk to …? Angel. She had to make that decision at a very young age. You talk to her and see what she says. But, I will say one thing. The good Lord placed him in your path twice for a reason. That’s something to take heed of.”
She nodded. “I will. Thanks, Mama.”