by Ashley Logan
Snorting, I dust my floury hands on my apron. “Probably they’ll be glad when I stop bossing them around and leave again.”
Smiling lightly, Prez moves around to give me a hug. “Maybe think about taking an actual holiday some time. One where you can just be you. I worry about you burning out. It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.”
“I tell that to Tim all the time. He’s got the toughest job. I get to be selfish on stage,” I add with a tight smile of my own. “Did you not see me tonight?”
Prez chuckles and fans her face. “Oh, I saw you, hot stuff. That’s why I thought I’d mention it. You’re always telling me it’s been too long since I went on a date - maybe take your own advice.”
“In Franklinville?” I say with a laugh. “I’m too much of a city slicker for that crowd now.”
“Maybe when you get back then,” she says with a nod. Her face lights with the spark of a new thought and she holds up a finger as she opens her satchel; the one that holds tonight’s take. Pulling out the large bundle of envelopes, she quickly sorts through them, piling the ones with my name onto the counter. “I know you’ll need this before you go. Regular pay will go in a bit strangely over the break due to bank holidays, but I hope it won’t be too disruptive.” The stack gets higher and Prez gives a low whistle. “A lot through the slots for Angel tonight. Proof that you certainly moved the crowd, Kat.”
Once finished, she puts the rest back in her satchel and nudges the pile of cash-filled envelopes toward me. “Have a good holiday, and remember what I said,” she says with a smile. “Even if you just book into a hotel down the road for a week.”
“We’ll see,” I reply, not even considering the idea. A week in a hotel could pay for the twins’ camp come summer. “You have a nice break too. Maybe take your own advice.”
“Mmm,” she says with a smile. “Maybe I will. Night, Kat.”
“Night Nina. And thanks for looking out for me.”
“Always,” she says with a wink before leaving for her tiny apartment upstairs.
Gathering the envelopes, I put them into the front pocket of my apron and finish the pies. Popping them in the oven, I whip up a double batch of oatmeal cookies to leave here in the Beyond giant cookie tin. Taking stock of the Tupperware tower I have for taking home, I move to the stove and test the soup. Adding more salt, I turn the heat off and check the oven timer before heading to my room.
Setting the envelopes on my bed, I change into my pajamas before the count up. People tend to be more generous around the holidays, and it looks as though I’ve tapped that generosity. I make a decent living from my stripping, but I don’t often get this many tips.
My stack of bills gets healthier as I work through the envelopes, but the next one I pick up feels different. People - not always men - sometimes slip in a business card or note, hoping you’ll give them a call.
The envelope in my hands feels firm right to the edges. Opening it up, I pull out a Christmas card. That’s a first.
On the front is a shooting star, streaked with red and gold, and the words Happy Holidays curving beneath its tail. The message inside is small, and when I see who wrote it, it doesn’t surprise me in the least.
Maybe next year.
Lennox.
Maybe next year, what? He’ll kiss me again? Wouldn’t that be nice? A guaranteed mistletoe kiss from a man that makes me all kinds of hot and bothered. It’ll be the highlight of my year. He’s definitely the reason I unleashed on stage tonight.
Not necessarily a bad thing, I note as I finish opening my tips. Over four hundred bucks. For one set. Not bad at all.
Making a record in my ledger, I tuck the notes into my purse, wondering how many of them might have come from Lennox. It’s then that I’m struck by a more ominous thought. He was there tonight, watching me dance out my sexual frustration. My face grows hot even though I’m alone. What must he think of me?
Groaning, I flop back on my bed. Pulling his card out from under me, I flip it open and study his scant words. Sighing, I set it on my side table.
“Not next year either,” I mutter, burying my face in my pillow. Not ever.
CHAPTER FOUR
“That’s all you packed?” Tim asks, taking the small suitcase from me. “I purposely didn’t bring the brats so we’d have more room for stuff.”
“Oh, there’s more stuff,” I say, opening my closet. “Put the suitcase down and hold out your arms.”
Tim does as I say and I load him up with presents. For the first time in weeks I begin to actually see my clothes and shoes properly. “Okay. You start down to the car. I’m going to enlist some more help. Ushering him out of my room, I follow him out to the living room to see who is available.
Smith and Ireeni seem to have a poker game going on and quite the pool of cash sits between them. Bettina and Natalia are perched nearby, watching the fun as Smith and Reeni fire hilariously slanderous remarks back and forth, each trying to throw the other off their game.
“Escapee from the harems of hell.”
“You... product of a semen smear on a stolen pair of panties.”
Laughing, Smith pushes more cash into the pot. “You’ll regret that one, fish-lips.”
“I don’t think I will, lady-locks. Just how do you get your hair so shiny and full of body?”
“I’ll never tell,” he says with a grin. “And neither will Kat,” he adds, pointing at me with a warning finger when he sees me coming.
Laughing, my little brother looks to me. “You replaced us.”
My smile fades. “I could never replace you guys,” I say in all seriousness. “I mean, these guys are my city-family and they stop me from missing you guys so much, but they’d never replace you.”
Giving me a strange look, Tim walks to the stairs. “I know Kat. It was a joke. Lighten up.” Shaking his head, he takes his stack of gifts to the car.
Frowning, I shrug and face the others. “Could I please grab a hand taking some stuff down to the car?”
“Sure thing Kat,” Smith replies with a grin as he lays down his cards and begins pulling the pile of cash towards him. “We’re done here.”
Reeni eyeballs him ferociously as she throws down her own cards, a storm brewing on her face. “I can’t believe you just gave up when you could have had it all!” she cries, gesturing at her bank pile and her pair of twos. “So disappointed Kowalski. If you’ve got your opponent by the throat, make them bleed! You could have had an extra... three hundred bucks!” she says, doing a quick count. “Next time we play to the last.”
Stuffing his pockets with her cash, Smith chuckles. “I didn’t want to leave you penniless for the holidays.”
“Oh please.” Reeni waves a dismissive hand at him as she stands and stretches. “Chump change. You’ll never win if you’re trying to be the nice guy. This is why I’m training you!”
Again Smith laughs, shaking his head. “You’re training me? Other way around, me thinks. Nice guys can win. And win big. Now, how can we help, Kat?” he asks, turning back to me as Tim arrives back upstairs.
“Okay.” Assessing my crew, I give a nod. “Tim, can you please grab the last of the presents from my room? Nat, if you could grab my suitcase that would be great. Teeny, I feel like I might have forgotten something in our bathroom - would you do me a favor and check?” As they disappear to help, Reeni and Smith await their instructions patiently. “Do you two think you could manage the containers in the kitchen? Also, I divided the soup for freezing, but I’ve left enough in the fridge for whoever is home tonight.” I inform them as I start loading up Smith’s arms with Tupperware. “There are more cookies and muffins in the freezer too, if you run out,” I continue as he moves aside for Reeni to take over when his arms are full.
“You don’t have to do all this for us, Kat.” Reeni’s pale, almond-shaped eyes narrow a little at me. “I mean, obviously, we love it and appreciate it, because your cooking is beyond delicious, but you’re too good to us.”
Snorting
, I wave her away as I put the last container atop her load. “You’re saying you guys don’t deserve good things?” I challenge, smiling as I roll my eyes. “I know I don’t have to. I like to. Think of it as a hobby.”
“Maybe you should try a hobby that’s less... goodie-two-shoes. Let your hair down and do something wild. Or someone wild,” she adds with a grin as her eyebrows dance at me.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I reply with a lighter smile than I feel like giving. “Maybe I’ll start acting wild when you start settling down? Kind of a karmic trade-off?”
Considering this a moment, Reeni smiles and shakes her head. “Not sure I could keep to that yet,” she says with a wink. “Forget I said anything. I need your epic goodness in the world to balance the impact of my black soul.”
Laughing now as she does, I shake my head as I grab the cooling pie from the counter. “Your soul couldn’t possibly commit to being one color, Reeni. Your wild streak is a mile wide rainbow blast.”
As we finish loading the car, I hear shouting from down the street as Scarlett and Bruno run towards us.
Panting as they come to a stop, they grin at me. “Glad we caught you before you left,” Scar says, pulling me into a hug. Bruno then envelopes us both with his huge arms. “Have a great Christmas, Kat.”
“Thanks guys. You know, this morning’s goodbye brunch was to cover this.”
“We know,” Bruno says with a shrug as he leans back and gives Tim a friendly nod. “Doesn’t mean we won’t miss your face. And your words of wisdom. And your listening skills. And everything else about you.” Straightening his hat, he points to it. “And your hats are awesome. I swear, Scar almost beat up the girl on the checkout at the mini-mart because she was super interested.”
“Yeah, well. She was using the hat to hit on you,” Scar grumbles, pulling her own hat down further. “She didn’t say shit about my hat, and it’s the same frickin’ thing. She deserved the look I slapped her with.”
Laughing, I hug everyone again and wave goodbye as I climb into the front seat. “Have a great Christmas, guys. I’ll see you in a few weeks.” I close my door and Tim pulls away from the curb. “Okay. Next stop Green’s; to pick up supplies.”
“Is there any room for them?” Tim says with a smirk.
“Oh shush. You can park in the lot on the corner,” I say, shifting restlessly in my seat.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just excited about heading home and being with you guys. I do miss you, ya know. Even the drama sometimes.”
Looking at me as if I’m crazy, Tim pulls into the lot and turns off the car. “You do not miss the drama.”
“Okay, maybe not. But it’s small town drama. Even at its worst, it doesn’t seem to touch on some of the stuff my city family have had to deal with. Tame drama is kind of nice.”
“Hmm,” Tim says, unconvinced as he stares out the windscreen at an unkempt man pushing a small trolley of belongings. “Is that guy wearing one of your hats?”
“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “That’s Marv. He lives in an alley down the street. It’s like the fourth hat I’ve knitted him. He keeps trading them for stuff, but the way I figure it, if he trades it for something he needs, at least some other poor soul gets a warm hat. It works out in the end.” Exiting the car, I wait for Tim to join me.
Saying nothing, he looks at the containers in my hand and smiles. Shaking his head as I call out to Marv, he follows me. We wish Marv a merry Christmas and I give him one of the containers, which he accepts with a toothy grin and continues on his way. Tim looks at the other container and scans the street.
“Are there more Marv’s around here someplace?”
I shrug. “Probably. It’s not like I made stuff specific to bring him today. I didn’t know he’d be here. We just have plenty, and he has none. Most of the homeless crowd tend to stay a little closer to the shelters in winter, but Marv has his own methods for keeping warm. Shall we?” Gesturing towards Green’s I start walking.
“So you’re bringing that in case there’s another Marv?” he asks, pointing to the pie in my hands. “Is it some sort of anti-harassment thing? You give them baking and they be nice to you?”
“What? No.” Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. “I just try and be nice to everyone. It makes the city seem smaller when the neighborhood is friendly.”
The bell chimes above us as we enter and Tim looks around. “There’s no-one here.”
“Someone will be out in a minute,” I reassure him as the nerves in my stomach quiver, because I know who it’ll be. I’d been hoping Kimber or Linc would be in the store, but since they’re not, I know who will be coming in response to the door’s bell. I clutch the pie I’m holding and keep an eye on the back entrance as Tim inspects a beautifully arranged pyramid of lemons. He reaches out a finger to nudge one of the lemons on the bottom row, and smacking his hand before he can ruin the display, I glare at him.
“Do I seriously have to tell you to keep your hands in your pockets?”
“I was going to test its security, not knock it down. No-one saw me,” he says, rolling his eyes at me. “If nobody’s in the store, couldn’t people just come in and take things?” he asks, turning back to the counter and straightening.
“If people need to steal food, then they’re welcome to take it,” Lennox says, lowering two boxes onto the counter. “Katarina,” he says, nodding in greeting.
“Lennox. Hi.” Feeling my cheeks warming, I take a steadying breath. “This is my brother, Tim. Tim-bones, this is Lennox Green.”
Lennox holds out his hand and Tim shakes it, giving me strange looks all the while. The door chimes and we all look to see Lincoln and Kimber strolling in with steaming to-go cups from the coffee place down the street. Tim gives me another bizarre look as they greet us warmly while removing their outer layers.
“Did you make hats for the whole city?” he asks, as Linc removes his and runs a hand over his short hair.
Frowning, I hold my pie tighter. “Only for the people I care about,” I answer defensively.
“You care about homeless Marv with the trolley?”
“Well... yeah. I do. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Tim says, raising his palms to me. “I guess you can take the girl out of the small town, but you can’t take the small town out of the girl,” he says, grinning at the others before turning back to me. “I guess I just figured you’d be different in the city.”
“I’m just me, Tim.” Feeling my cheeks heating more, I sigh and take a step closer to the boxes on the counter, trying to ignore the heat from Lennox’s gaze. “Is this my order?”
He gives a nod of confirmation and I wave Tim forward. “If you take them to the car, I’ll be out in a minute.”
Tim looks between Lennox and I briefly, rolls his eyes again and pulls the boxes towards him.
“I’ll take one and help you with doors,” Lincoln insists, as he shrugs his coat back on. Taking one of the boxes, he shoots raised eyebrows at Lennox and leaves with Tim.
Turning to Kimber, I smile, and hand her the pie I’ve been holding. “It’s from the apples I ruined yesterday, but I added some rhubarb.”
“Wow, thanks, Kat.” Grinning at her dad, she holds it to her nose and sniffs before moaning in appreciation. “If you could spill some bananas when you get back to town, we also like banana cake,” she says with a laugh as her dad shoots her a warning look.
“Why don’t you take that upstairs, Sprout.”
Looking to me briefly, she gives Lennox a slow smile and a very obvious wink before heading out the back. Waiting for the side door to shut, Lennox sighs and turns back to me. “You didn’t have to make us pie.”
“I know,” I say, folding my arms over my chest. “I just wanted to apologize.”
“For knocking over a few apples?” he asks, his brows knitting as he rings up the order on the register.
Taking a breath, I shake my head. “For... leading you on. I shouldn’t have. I dance a b
ig game, but I don’t do any of that stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Stuff.” Shrugging, I keep my eyes to the floor. “I just... don’t. You guys have this great thing going.” I gesture to the store, out back and upstairs to where the Greens live. “I don’t want to wreck it. There’s no maybe next year, Lennox. You’re a nice guy, but there’s no future with me, so just, um, don’t waste your time. Okay?” Putting the cash on the counter, I turn to leave.
Before I can get to the door, Lennox rushes in front of me, blocking the way. His warm eyes search my face as his jaw flexes in thought. Finally, he steps aside and opens the door for me.
“I’m not eating your apology.”
Gasping a little at his firm tone, I pull my coat closer around me and lift my chin. “That’s a shame. It’s good.”
His face softens. “I’m sure it is. It was made by a good person. I just think it was made for the wrong reasons, so it’ll turn sour in my mouth. See you next year, Katarina.” With a fragile smile, he raises a hand in farewell.
Staring at him through narrowed slits, I grapple for an argumentative response, because this is not how this discussion was meant to go.
“I am not good.”
Lennox raises an eyebrow. “I know,” he says, nodding. “You’re wonderful.”
Glaring at him now, I pull my hat down firmly. “You don’t know a damn thing.” Storming past him, I don’t even raise my head, let alone my voice to respond when Lincoln passes wishing me a happy Christmas, and a safe drive to Franklinville.
“YOU SURE YOU’RE OKAY?” Tim asks for the fifth time. “Normally you can’t shut up on the drive home.”
Forcing a smile, I wave him off as I look out the window. “I’m fine. Just tired.” When he still looks unconvinced, I sigh. “I was up late in the kitchen.”
Nodding, he frowns at the windscreen. “I guess those dancers will need to eat something while you’re away, but couldn’t they make an effort and feed themselves? I mean, you’re allowed a break, right? It’s Christmas.”