Her exterior was dauntingly tough—buffalo hide. She was wickedly smart, with an acerbic wit. She could rip you to shreds with her tongue, and her logic and sheer force of will were beyond formidable. She frightened most people. Rightly so, because she didn’t put up with fools or idiots or bullying. And now he knew why. Because as a girl, Clarissa had been emotionally bullied and belittled by her mother and ineffectively protected by her loving yet feeble father.
No, Clarissa didn’t suffer fools. She spoke with clarity and directness, even bluntness. But she was also loyal . . . to a fault. And fair and kind and tenderhearted, even if very few people ever experienced that side of her. These qualities, which few witnessed, had made her love all the more special. He’d fought like a Trojan warrior to get to the soft vulnerable place that he’d known lay waiting for him, like a golden treasure, in Clarissa’s heart. He’d battled against her every defense. And finally, she’d let him in. The rapture. Knowing that she trusted him had been pure pleasure, beyond the physical. Trusted him, Norris Foggbottom, with not only her body and mind, but also her heart. That hard-fought win had been the greatest thrill he’d ever experienced.
Then he’d faltered. Or perhaps just been too rash.
“May I help you?” A woman, with enough wrinkles to testify to wisdom and the grey hair to back it up, walked toward Norris. “Looking for a gift?” Her warm smile and the twinkle in her eyes indicated she’d already seen many men in her shop on Christmas Eve day.
“The sculpture in the window? The fairy?”
“Ah, yes.” Her smile broadened. “That’s by our famous local artist Savannah McGrath. Have you heard of her?” She walked to the window and plucked the small sculpture from the display. “She made exactly a dozen of these when her sister had her first baby. Only put six up for sale. This is the final one. Each fairy is a bit different. I love the curly hair on this one.”
“Me too. I think that’s why it’s meant to be mine.”
The price nearly hobbled him. Norris took a deep breath and handed over his credit card, saying a silent prayer that the charge would go through. And it did. Thank God.
Yes, he was being extravagant and a touch irresponsible, but this was Clarissa, the woman who owned his heart. The woman he’d managed to scare away two Christmases ago, only to find her oddly back in his life now. My God, how many men got a second chance with the woman they loved?
And they were fucking. Magnificently fucking. Having sex in a way he’d never had with any other woman. In a way that made his heart chill at the thought of losing Clarissa a second time.
“Here you are.”
The saleswoman held out a lovely box wrapped in red foil with a gold bow on top.
“It’s perfect, really. Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas,” she called as he exited the store, the bell above the door jingling.
Snow crunched beneath Norris’s feet as he walked around the square and across the street to the ’Round the Block café, where he’d agreed to meet Kevin for lunch. They had both needed a reprieve from the Very Merry Eliza if they were going to have any hope of enduring the next thirty-six hours. Norris grabbed a booth.
A few moments later a very pale Kevin walked in. He took off his coat and sat down on the opposite side of the booth. The muscles in Kevin’s face tightened with strain, as though he’d stubbed his toe.
“What’s in the box?” Kevin asked.
A smooth deflection on his best friend’s part. “A gift for Clarissa.” Norris lifted it from the table and set it beside him on the bench. He should’ve put it in the car before lunch.
“Things heating up a bit there?” Kevin pulled a menu from behind the napkin dispenser.
Norris ran his hand through his hair. “Who knows? We haven’t talked about it, really, just had a lot of”—he leaned forward and lowered his voice—“sex.”
“Sounds like the perfect relationship to me,” Kevin mumbled. “No discussions of the future.” He glanced up. “Only some solid boning.”
“The sex is phenomenal. It always was phenomenal. But nothing’s changed, really. We haven’t discussed what it means.” He knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop. He was excited, and really, if he was completely honest with himself, beyond hopeful. He’d crossed way over into that terrifying territory of desperately wanting someone but being completely unable to determine if she would be his. Norris frowned. “I mean, what if this really is only great sex? I guess that would be okay, and perhaps its what she needs while she’s home with her mother. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I want more than wham-bam-thank you Norris.”
“Didn’t you always?”
Norris cocked his head.
“Want more?” Kevin went on. “With Clarissa, weren’t you always a bit whipped?”
“Indeed. I was. I still am.” He looked at Kevin. The tight muscles around Kevin’s lips and the faint corpse-like skin tone. “In fact, I definitely want more.”
A woman with dark eyes and sagging skin, wearing a smile that could light a root cellar, walked up to the table. Her nametag said Rose. Norris flipped over his upside-down coffee cup and smiled back.
“Cream with the coffee?” Rose asked while she poured.
“Black for me, please.”
She nodded. Set the pot on the table and took out her notepad. Once they’d ordered she headed back to the counter.
Kevin stared into his coffee cup and stirred.
“Two years ago,” Norris started, “I was exactly where you are and I wanted to be. My God, I had the ring in my pocket and the life-changing question on my lips. I was ready, man . . . so ready.”
The memory of that Christmas Eve in Hawaii squeezed his heart.
“But she wasn’t. Wow, I completely misread the signals and where we were in our relationship.” Norris shook his head. “What if I mess up again? What if I tell her what I’m thinking, how I’m feeling, and she bolts?”
“Then I guess you’ll have your answer.” Kevin pressed his palms together. There was no sympathy in his features. His face . . . he had retreated behind a mask, a wall. “Did she actually leave you in Hawaii?”
“No, nothing quite that dramatic. More of a slow kill than a sudden deathblow. We were in our room on Christmas Eve and I asked her. Got down on one knee, the big production. Candles and moonlight. We could hear the waves just outside our bungalow. My God, I thought my heart would explode from my chest. I’ve never been so nervous.”
“Sounds pretty fucking perfect.”
“It was. Or I thought it was. But it wasn’t. She looked . . . she looked like she might cry. Which I took to mean that she was happy. That my proposal was what she wanted.”
“What’d she say?”
“She didn’t exactly say anything.”
Kevin’s eyebrows furrowed. Norris continued.
“No, instead we just went to the great sex part, which she always did. I guess . . . I assumed her answer was yes. But the next day she didn’t put on the ring. And then we went back to L.A., and there was New Year’s, and afterward I mentioned that she might want to start wearing the diamond that I’d gotten her. And she pointed out that she’d never said yes.”
“Cold, isn’t she?”
“No, absolutely not. In fact, she has probably the greatest depth of emotion I’ve ever seen. That’s why she comes across like she does. She’s a walking ball of vulnerability, so she pushes people away because she’s soft on the inside. But that was it. After she said she hadn’t said yes, it was over, and she was gone. I moved to New York.
“And she won an Academy Award.”
“I wish people would stop saying that, like her telling me no and me moving away were the catalyst for her winning that damned bald gold man.”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s just, she said no to a transformative life-changing moment and then was greeted with another transformative life-changing moment that has, in fact, changed her life.”
“Right, right.”
R
ose returned with their burgers and fries and set them on the table. Her gaze latched on Kevin. “You’re the boy from last night at the Candy Cane Lane Caroling Competition.”
Kevin clamped his lips together and ducked his head. Red flamed through his face. Oh boy. While Norris had heard Eliza’s brief retelling of last night’s events, he’d yet to hear the details from Kevin.
“I thought you looked familiar, but I knew you weren’t from around here.” Rose rested her hand on his shoulder. “My goodness, don’t be embarrassed. Everyone gets a bit of stage fright once and again. I was surprised, though, the way Eliza went on and on about what a great musician you are, teaching at that fancy school in Denver. Said you’re up for a big promotion.” Rose leaned forward toward the table, “Besides, I was in the front row, I heard what happened to Eliza’s voice. If I’d been you, I would have froze too.”
Kevin’s lips bent into a tight smile. “Did Mrs. McGovern also mention that I’m in a band?”
“A band?” Rose squinted. “As in a music group?”
Kevin’s eyes lit up as he nodded.
Rose shook her head. “Nope, nope, can’t say she did. Just said you had a good job and would be marrying Julia soon.” Rose’s smile bloomed again. “Seemed real excited about grandbabies. Kevin’s face turned a pale shade of green. “My goodness, I certainly hope last night doesn’t ruin your chances of becoming a member of the family. You know Eliza, she takes that Candy Cane Lane Competition awful serious. Christmas is kind of her thing.”
“Oh yes, it is,” Norris said, pointing to his sweater.
“See she got a hold of you both then.” Rose nodded toward Kevin’s plaid Christmas sweater. “Lawrence comes in a lot. Think he tries to duck out of the house some, now that he’s retired. Had one of them Christmas sweaters on last week.” A tiny giggle escaped her lips. “Well, sure hope you have a happy Christmas. You boys better get Eliza a good gift, though. From what I hear, she doesn’t ever forget a thing, and I’ve been in this town my whole life.”
Rose tottered off.
“I’m fucking doomed.” Kevin stared at his untouched burger.
“You’re not doomed,” Norris said. “You’re in love.”
“Am I?” Kevin looked up. His face looked haunted, but fury lashed out from his eyes.
Ice slid through Norris’s veins. Oh. No. Based on the look on Kevin’s face right now, no, most definitely, he was not in love. This was not the face of man who was ready to hitch his wagon to one woman. Nor was this the face of a man who simply had cold feet based on the incomprehensible fear that came with the thought of throwing in your entire life with another person. No . . . this look was closer to the kind of anger of someone who felt duped or manipulated. Someone who’d just discovered something nefarious had gone on, Norris had been in love. He’d seen his own besotted reflection, and a besotted face looked completely different than the face that stared back at him from across the table.
“I can’t do it.” Kevin’s nostrils flared. His hands formed fists on either side of his plate. “I thought I could, but I can’t. I thought I cared enough about Julia and the life we’ve created, and that she understood what I wanted, and that those things would be enough. But they’re not.” He locked his eyes with Norris’s. “I can’t fucking do it, Norris, I can’t ask Julia to marry me. What the fuck am I going to do?”
8
“I’m sorry that Mother is so awful to you.”
Clarissa pulled the eyeshadow brush away from Julia’s eyelid at her sister’s words. Putting makeup on Julia was like painting a porcelain doll. Perfectly pretty, with her blue eyes and English rose complexion. Flaxen hair, thick and tamed, sculpted cheekbones and cupid’s bow lips. Long ago Clarissa had longed for a beauty similar to her sister’s. She’d pretended Julia’s face was her own by experimenting with varying shades of eyeshadow and lipstick on her younger sister.
“You know she loves you,” Julia continued.
Deep breath. Not one facial muscle flinched. She’d mastered her ability to keep her emotions off her face while producing films. Julia believed that Mother loved Clarissa because Julia needed to believe that Mother wasn’t the type of woman who favored one daughter over the other. But Julia’s relationship with Mother was so fundamentally different than Clarissa’s it was like comparing sailing across the ocean on a cruise ship to drifting on a log raft strapped together with hemp ropes—one was all leather seats, plush beds, and luxury, the other was a near–one hundred percent probability of drowning or being eaten by a shark.
“I know you don’t think she does, but how can she not? A mother loves all her children.”
Clarissa pasted a smile to her face.
“She simply doesn’t know what to make of your life.”
Heat cascaded through Clarissa’s chest. Mother’s bad behavior was Clarissa’s fault? Because she had chosen a life so different than Mother’s or Julia’s, it was okay to punish Clarissa for her choice?
She couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Now I’m getting irritated.” Clarissa dabbed the brush into a bit of golden color. “Mother’s bad behavior isn’t caused by me. She’s in control of her own actions. Or at least she should be.” Clarissa swept the color over Julia’s eyelid. “Besides, you know she’s been this way my entire life, right? This didn’t just start when I moved. Please, at least acknowledge that she treats us differently.”
Julia shifted in her seat, her discomfort palpable. “But we’re such different people. We don’t even look the same, and you’ve always wanted different things. When we were kids, this life, this place, this town, was never enough for you. No matter what Mother tried.”
Clarissa’s heart hammered. She stepped back from her sister. “Tried? You think she tried? Oh my God, Julia, how exactly did she try? By calling me Piglet and giving you ballet lessons?”
“You wouldn’t go to ballet. Don’t you remember? We were both enrolled, we both had dance shoes and leotards and tights, and you wouldn’t go.”
Clarissa lifted her shoulders. A vague memory hovered on the perimeter of her brain. “I didn’t want to dance.”
“Right, so you didn’t.”
“I wanted other things.”
“And you got them. You had a camera, you went to photography and film camp. You did all the things that Mother never did. You pushed every boundary.”
“For which she made me pay.”
Julia sighed. “She makes everyone pay. Even me.” She glanced at her hands. “She’s not perfect or fair, but she tried. She did, and it absolutely breaks my heart to see the two of you constantly at odds whenever you’re together.”
“Well, you don’t have to see it very often, do you? I mean we’re rarely together.”
“But what about this year? After Kevin proposes there’ll be parties and showers and celebrations and then the actual wedding.” Julia glanced up into Clarissa’s eyes. “The two of you will be together.” Her lips tightened, and her eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes, filled with pain. “I . . . I would love it if the two of you could get along and maybe even enjoy each other over this next year.”
“You’re asking a lot. Mother doesn’t think she does anything wrong.”
“That’s not true. I know that’s not true.”
“Why?” Clarissa’s eyes lasered in on Julia. “What has she said?”
“She has regrets about your relationship with her. I mean . . . I know you don’t want to hear this, but the two of you are actually a bit similar.”
“You’re right, I don’t want to hear that.” Clarissa turned to her suitcase. She grabbed a box of candy she’d brought as a gift and tore open the wrapping paper. “Want one?” Nothing like the solace of milk chocolate.
Julia shook her head.
Chewing around the caramel she’d popped into her mouth, Clarissa asked, “How do you think we’re the same?”
“You’re both driven. And when you want something a certain way, you become absolutely obsessed.”
Clarissa�
�s jaw tightened. Definitely not what she wanted to hear. She was like Mother? Of course the thought had danced around Clarissa’s brain . . . on occasion. Flitted through her neurons. Norris had said something very similar. The possibility that she and Mother shared certain obsessive tendencies. Mother’s obsession manifested in crafting the “perfect” family and Christmas, while Clarissa’s came out in her well-ordered existence in Los Angeles. Appearances meant nearly everything to both.
“You know, she was afraid she’d embarrass you,” Julia nearly whispered. “That’s why she didn’t come out for the awards.”
“What?”
“She’d never admit it to you, but that’s what she told me. She was worried that she wouldn’t fit in, or that she’d wear the wrong thing or say the wrong thing, and then you’d be embarrassed by her. She didn’t want that.”
Clarissa paused. Wow, Julia’s revelation really epitomized her problem with Mother. Not only had Mother hurt her by ignoring the biggest event in her life, but then she’d told Julia why she’d failed to come, never even mentioning it to Clarissa. It proved yet again how much closer and more comfortable Mother felt with Julia.
Clarissa’s stomach tightened. And now, based on what Julia had just told her, was Clarissa supposed to feel sorry for Mother? The woman who continually hurt her?
“She’s scared of you.”
“Ha! Now I know you’ve completely lost it. Mother isn’t scared of anyone.”
“Oh, yes she is. You’re her famous successful daughter, and she doesn’t even know how to have a five-minute conversation with you. I think . . . I think she sees her relationship with you as her biggest failure. So she does what she always does when she fails.”
“She gets mean.”
Julia nodded. “And then she flips the failure so that it’s the other person’s fault.” Julia dropped her gaze. “Just like last night.”
“What the hell happened last night?
Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology Page 37