“Of course. Thanks, Dad.” I flung my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek again. Then I let him get up and change his old key ring for the one I’d just given him. Next, he placed the picture frame with the seashells I got a while back on a shelf close to the TV. Three happy Millers smiled from the photo. It had taken several days for me to finally find one of the three of us that I thought could remind Dad that we could be a happy family again, if only everyone put a little effort into it. He stared at it for a long time, seemingly forgetting that he wasn’t alone. Absently, he stroked his thumb across the picture.
A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth when I saw that it wasn’t the whole picture he caressed, only the part with my mom in it. I wanted to go hug him and tell him that everything was going to be all right. With them—with us. One day, we would be a complete family again, I just knew it. But for now, I remained on the couch and gave my father a couple more minutes in his private little world.
Later, we drank a cup of eggnog and around five he drove me home to my mom. Since it was Christmas and he knew she was having the blues because of him, he wanted me to spend the evening with her. He’d planned to drive out to his parents near San Francisco and spend the next couple of days with them anyway. At least he wouldn’t be alone.
Mom and Gramps had set up a beautiful dinner table when I got home. The turkey Mom made was a great deal smaller than the usual one we had on the twenty-fourth, but we were also short one big eater tonight, so that was okay.
The three of us watched A Christmas Carol at Grandpa’s house after that delicious dinner and later just sat together around the coffee table with cookies and hot chocolate and talked about how nice it would be to have actual snow for Christmas. It was close to midnight when Mom and I went home. She locked the door, turned off the lights, and went upstairs to her room after a long hug that I’d desperately needed.
But before I went to sleep, too, I sneaked downstairs again to put the present for her from Dad under the tree. With no light to guide me, I knocked into the couch, which pushed a snort from my chest. Feeling my way over to the corner where the tree was, my toe caught on the coffee table. I bit down a moan and a curse, but when I nearly poked an eye out on a protruding twig of the Christmas tree, I decided no surprise was worth this torture.
Switching on the light, I set the package from Dad next to mine for Mom. We’d done a great job decorating the tree this year. It was a pity Dad couldn’t see it. Remembering the lousy excuse of a Christmas tree he’d gotten just because of me, I was glad he was spending the holidays with his family. Nana and Grandpa Seth always had the most beautifully decorated house on their street. Their tree would be big enough to house a clan of squirrels and probably a stork, too. Dad was going to be in a warm place…probably much warmer than it had been in this home for years.
I stroked one of the red baubles on a twig, catching the reflection of my nostalgic face in the shiny surface. A deep sigh escaped me. All the presents were here now. All but one. Chris’s gift for me still sat in the drawer of my desk. Should I go get it and put it with the other presents?
Say I did, what would that mean? That I forgave him? Because that certainly hadn’t happened. He’d done too many cruel things to get back on my good side so fast. Oh my freak, all the things I told him at the café…things about us. About him being my first kiss and how he gave me the romantic chills. This couldn’t be brushed off, not even with a Christmas present.
Dragging my feet along, I trudged back to my room, closed the door, and slumped with my back against it. My gaze on the bottom drawer, the tiny voice inside my head tried to bribe me into giving in to my curiosity and just opening that damn package. Sam had almost gotten me to open it the other day. She was one curious little monster.
I’d refused back then, but tonight was Christmas Eve. And this was a Christmas present. If I didn’t open it now, I might never. I stalked to my desk and pulled the drawer open. There it was, small and blue, and oh so sweetly wrapped up.
I swallowed. Chris had hurt me. More than once. The incident two days ago after school changed nothing. I’d been doing so well, I could go on distracting myself and finally I’d forget him. And all would be good. I just had to tell myself this often enough…
Slamming the damn drawer shut, I changed into my PJs and went to bed. As I turned off the lamp on my nightstand, a small blinking light on my phone made me aware that there was an unread text. It must have come in during the past ten minutes while I’d had a one-on-one with the Christmas tree, because the cell had been silent all evening.
A message so late at night? None of my friends would do that, and all of them had sent me texts earlier today, and some just called, or I rang them. It wasn’t unusual for Chris, however, to send me a text this late…but did I really hope it was from him?
The stutter of my heart said yes. The grumpy voice in my head shouted no. The sudden tremble of my fingers said, you can’t handle a text from him right now. And the small, red-skinned devil on my left shoulder said, you’ll never find out if you don’t read it, stupid.
Shaking my head, I swiped my thumb across the screen to open the message. It was from—my heart sank a little—Charlie Brown.
Neither of us dared to call you today, even though we both considered driving to your house for a Christmas hug at least three times this evening. Anyway… There was a link to YouTube attached here and beneath it stood: Chris and Ethan.
Wow, that was a surprise. And what a nice one, too, when I clicked the link and “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” played out. It made me smile and think of a possible reply. But did I really want to go down that road? That I even considered it must have been a side effect of the cheesy movie I had watched earlier. A moment later, I’d typed a message for Ethan. Merry Christmas to you, too… And to your family.
Noncommittal. I wouldn’t name Chris specifically, but Ethan would pass on my message to all of his two family members for sure. My mind drifted across town to their house. Christmas Eve must be wonderful there. Warm and cozy, with a great meal and dessert. The guys laughing together with their mom while they sit around the tree. Tight hugs for everyone.
If I was there, would Chris catch me under the mistletoe for a kiss?
A sigh escaped me. I missed his smile. And his bright eyes, too. The laughs he gave me with his witty comebacks and the banter he used for getting close to me. But most of all, I missed his goddamn texts every night.
Why did he have to ruin it all?
I put my cell away and went to bed hoping for a happier Christmas next year.
Chapter 22
TWO DAYS AFTER Christmas, Ethan reached the limits of his patience with me. Either you come over and play Wii with me now, or I’ll come to your house and blow it down. Your call.
Ethan the big bad wolf? The thought coaxed a smile out of me. Coming, I texted back. Panic swamped me only after I hit send. What if Chris was home, too? Running into him during my winter break, which had been fairly nice so far, wasn’t an appealing idea. But we’d be in Ethan’s room the whole time. No trouble. Right?
Trading the flannel bottoms that I still wore at three o’clock in the afternoon for snug-fit jeans and a yellow sweatshirt, I grabbed a hair band from my desk and tied my hair into a high ponytail.
“Mom, can I use the car?” I asked, running down the stairs.
“Sure, honey.” She forced a smile as she handed over the keys. “Have fun.”
Hopefully more than she was having, since the book she’d been reading had obviously moved her to tears. Or was she thinking about Dad again? I longed to comfort her, but the last time I’d tried, she’d brushed it off as nothing, so I let it rest. “See you later.”
Grover Beach seemed deserted today. Most people were probably visiting family out of town, or they stayed in, enjoying a lazy afternoon in front of the TV. No stop at a single crossing, this must be my lucky day. At the Donovan house, I parked the car behind Beverly’s, then walked up to the front doo
r and rang the bell.
Nervous seconds passed. I wrung my hands. Odds were two to one that it wasn’t Chris opening the door. Two to one was good. I could live with that. Today was my lucky day. He wasn’t going to—
The door opened. It took me only one glimpse at those surprised blue eyes, and there was little doubt the powers above had plotted against me. My heart stopped, then restarted with a panicky drum roll. “Hey,” I said to Chris.
“Hi.” He scrunched his face in wonder, holding on to the door with one hand. His white tee rode up on that side and revealed a thin strip of skin above his jeans. Just enough to make any girl’s mouth water. A happy glow wormed into his gaze. “Why—”
“Ethan,” I cut him off…and destroyed his budding hope that I might have come to talk to him.
“Right.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. After another second, Chris stepped aside and let me pass, his gaze focused on the floor rather than me. “He’s in his room.”
Without a thank you, which certainly hovered on my tongue but wouldn’t come out with my throat gone dry, I headed that way. Halfway down the hallway, I broke into a run. There was no time to knock. I fell into Ethan’s room without warning and closed us off from the rest of the house with my back pressed against the door.
“Susan!” Ethan jumped off his bed.
“Hi, there.” Panting, I tried to get rid of the queasiness in my stomach. “Set up the game. I’m ready for a race.”
The thundering sound of another door slamming shook the entire house and made me jump, a tiny gasp escaping me.
Ethan squinted at the wall as if he could see right through it. He laughed as he came to me. “Ran into Chris, did you?”
I shrugged helplessly and nodded with a grimace.
No asking, no warning, no sign of his intentions next, he wrapped me up in a tight embrace that knocked the rest of the air out of my lungs. “Merry Christmas, Susan. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah, me too…I think.”
Ethan held me at arm’s length again and studied my face with a smirky look. “You think?”
“Me, too.” Period. I smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Merry Christmas back at you.”
He led me to his bed, making me take up my usual place in his room, and set up a game of Mario Kart. Boy, did it feel good to be with him again. Nick was great at FIFA, but he hated Mario Kart. I’d missed racing Ethan these past weeks.
“So, are you going to talk to Chr—”
“Not one word about him,” I cut Ethan off quickly. “I mean it. If you make me talk about your brother, I swear I’m outta here before you drive over the finish line.”
The game paused. Big blue eyes stared at me. Ethan pressed his lips together and grinned. “Gotcha. Not a single word.” He continued the game and kept his promise. Good for him, because I would have made good on my threat in an instant.
An hour later, my hand was cramping from pressing the buttons on the controller. I put it down. “Let’s stop here, or my thumbs will fall off.”
“Want to do something else? Watch TV or play chess or something?”
In fact, being here for an hour was probably long enough for a reset of our friendship. “Maybe next time.”
“Next time?” Ethan smiled in anticipation. “I’ll nail you down on that.”
Nodding, I climbed out of his bed. I did intend to come back here…someday.
“Need a ride home?” he offered.
“No, I drove my mom’s car.”
“Good. So, I guess we’ll see you at Hunter’s New Year’s party?”
My chest slumped inside at another mention of that party. “Nah, I’m not going.”
“Why not?” His brows knitted together shortly before his eyes widened. The penny dropped. “Oh.”
I gave him a dry smile. “Exactly.”
“Okay. Then just call me if you want to hang out again.”
“Will do.” With Ethan on my heels, I opened the door and walked out into the hallway.
Beverly’s voice drifted from the kitchen. I hadn’t wished her a Merry Christmas yet, so I made a detour. In the threshold, I froze. She sat at the table, her back on me, and said, “If she means so much to you, then don’t give up. She’s here. Talk to her, love.”
Across from her sat Chris. He looked up, his face paling like that of a snowman. When his mother turned around to me on that cue, her eyes widened. “Susan! We— I was—” She rose from her chair and came over, her mouth tweaking in a warm smile as she regained control over her stammering.
“Happy holidays,” I murmured, letting her squeeze my hand. My gaze was stuck on Chris the entire time. Leaning back, his expression appeared so defeated. His eyes were fixed on a plate with a piece of cake that was damaged beyond recognition. While Beverly obviously had enjoyed hers, he must have stabbed at his with the fork.
The desperation he emitted churned my stomach. Could the reason for this really be me?
“Why don’t you come in, sweetie?” Beverly tugged at my hand. “Have a cup of tea with us.”
I yanked my hand out of hers, startling her, which wasn’t my intention. “Sorry, but I can’t. My mom’s waiting for me. I have to go.” Lie, lie, and truth. I really needed to get out of here. Working up the strength for a polite smile, I whirled around and dashed to the door.
Ethan caught up with me in the next moment. He must have been behind me all this time. “Wait,” he said in a low voice and spun me to face him. “Will it always be like this from now on?” He grimaced. “Because that’s really awkward.”
My knees shook. “I’m sorry for that. Maybe I shouldn’t have come at all.” Not as rude as before, I pulled my hand out of Ethan’s and slipped out through the door, heading for the car.
“Don’t forget to call,” he shouted after me. I assured him with a nod but didn’t look back. Go, go, go, my mind urged me. I could think about everything later. When I was back in safety. Far away from Chris…who’d looked every bit as close to crying as I’d so often been recently because of him.
*
That night, I sat on my bed with my phone in my hand. I’d typed a message. For Chris. Want to talk? But I couldn’t make myself send it off. It would have been so simple—just pressing that damn little button. But it seemed impossible every time I started to think past that moment. What would happen if he really called me? What would he say?
Would he sneak his way back into my heart?
Probably.
Did I want this?
Maybe.
Was that good for me?
Definitely not.
He was a liar. A damn jerk who coaxed my deepest secrets out of me and played me for a sucker. At the memory of that particular date at Charlie’s and later in that bar in Pismo Beach, my stomach rolled with betrayal once again. How could this be the base of a fair friendship? Or a possible relationship?
Something warm slid down my cheek. I dabbed at the tear and deleted the stupid text.
*
In the following days, I made it a point not to be home and drown in self-pity. Hunter’s place at Misty Beach was a nice distraction when most of the guys came to hang out. Sam told us about her Christmas with her aunt and uncle, and how she and Chloe finally sorted things out between them. It was weird to think of Chloe as an actually nice girl with issues, but we were all happy for Sam. Especially me. A functioning family was worth everything.
Only when the conversation took a turn to the approaching party did I find an excuse to slip out since I wasn’t planning on going.
When not hanging with the guys, my alternative plan for not thinking about Chris was to read. Luckily, it worked. Most of the time. Sort of… Gah! Who was I fooling? I checked my damn phone every half hour for a new message. Nothing. All those days, the stupid device remained silent, except for the calls from the girls.
Well, I could deal with that. It’s what I wanted after all. Right?
Since everyone seemed overly excited for the New Year’s party, I decided
to spend the day in an exclusive cloud of pampering at my house, so there wouldn’t even be a flicker of regret that I wasn’t going. After sleeping in, I took a two-hour bubble bath at noon, paid extra attention to my skin and hair with beauty products, and afterward settled down with tea and a new book in front of the fireplace.
Wrapped into my fluffy white dressing gown, I rocked back and forth in the rocking chair and warmed my bare feet at the fire. Mom had to work until nine, so the house was all mine. Amazing, how fast I’d grown used to the silence in here. But there were moments when I really missed my dad’s voice…like right now. On the positive side, I could just call him.
“Hey, Dad,” I said when he picked up.
“Sweetheart, how are you doing?”
“I’m all right. Are you still at Nana’s place?”
“Yes. I’ll come back tomorrow. We can have a dinner for two again—” He broke off at the ring of my doorbell. “Who’s that?” he asked.
“I'm not sure.” Scrunching my brows, I got out of the rocking chair and went to answer the door, but kept talking to my dad. “Can’t wait to cook with you.”
“Your Nana’s packing a jar of cookies for you, too,” he continued, but I wasn't listening anymore. On the doorstep of my house stood a bunch of girls, all wearing an evil grin.
“That’s great. Tell her thanks,” I said absently to my dad, my eyes wide like saucers, focusing on my friends. “Um, hey, the guys are here. Can I call you later?”
“Sure. Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you, too, Dad.” I hung up and my hand dropped. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“Surprise!” Sam shouted and led the rest of my friends into the kitchen, looping her arm through mine to pull me along.
Did I say I don’t like surprises? Especially not when they came with a conspiratorial smile and Simone wearing her I’ll-do-your-makeup face.
“We know you don’t want to come to the party tonight,” Lisa began.
“But we don’t give a damn about what you think you want,” Sam added. “You’re going and we’re here to make sure of that.”
Dating Trouble (Grover Beach Team Book 5) Page 26