by Sam Mariano
I nod my head and shake his hand. “Rafe’s cousin. I remember. I was your waitress the night Rafe brought you, Laurel, and Carly to dinner after your dad died.”
“Oh. Okay. Sorry, I didn’t realize—are you Rafe’s new girlfriend, or…?”
Shoving him in the arm, Laurel says, “I told you, we’re all friends. Don’t use that word around either one of them. God, Vince.”
Vince scowls at her. “Jeeze, relax, would you? I was just trying to get a feel for what the hell this is.”
“You can’t expect us to keep up with his revolving door of women. We have lives, jobs, hobbies,” Carly calls from the couch, where she is changing the baby’s diaper.
“Hey, he has not had a revolving door of women lately,” Laurel defends. “He’s been completely single for a while now
“Someone get the man a medal,” Vince says sarcastically.
Laurel sighs and looks back at me apologetically. “I’m trying to make everyone be nice, but it’s not going all that well.”
I shrug. “Eh, family holidays, you get what you get.” Lifting the bag of groceries I brought for breakfast tomorrow, I tell her, “I should probably put these away.”
Laurel leads me to the kitchen, then opens the refrigerator door for me. “I’m glad you could come. It’s nice for Nicky and Skylar to have so much family around for Christmas. Carly and I just had two-person Christmases until she got together with Vince.”
“And then there were three.”
Smiling faintly, Laurel nods. “When I met the Morelli family in Chicago, I thought it was just the coolest that they were so tightly knit, and they had these big family get-togethers. Never thought I’d be part of theirs, even the smaller branch, but the way they do family definitely appealed to me.”
I bend down and start unpacking my bag. “Well, I’m glad Rafe knocked you up then. Now you get to be one of them.”
Laughing lightly, she says, “Yeah, kinda. They’re an inclusive bunch. I love that. It doesn’t matter if you’re sort of a stray, if they like you, they’ll make you one of theirs.”
“Yeah, I like that, too. I don’t know the Chicago family members, but Rafe and Sin have always been that way. Sin’s family sucks, but he carved out a spot for himself with the Morellis, and the rest is history.” Cocking a knowing eyebrow at her, I tell her, “You’re not trying to bring me into the fold, are you?”
“You’re already in the fold,” she insists. “You were around before I was.”
“Rafe has had to deal with a lot of change lately. Not sure he’s ready for a massive change to the infrastructure of his life. Speaking of, I thought he’d be here already. Aren’t we starting dinner now?”
Laurel turns around and starts getting out spices from her cupboard. “Yeah, he’ll be here soon. We can go ahead and get started, that way everything is cooking and we’ll be able to eat.”
Carly comes in with baby Nicholas on her shoulder. She brushes a kiss against the side of his head, then says, “All right, mommy, it’s time for you to go relax with the baby, Virginia and I will get dinner going.”
“Oh, but I thought—”
“That you were going to sit your butt on the couch and relax now that help is here?” Carly finishes, lifting her eyebrows. “Yes, that’s what I thought, too. Get out of here.”
Laurel scrunches her nose up at Carly, but her expression melts right back into a smile as she takes Nicholas back. “Hello, you perfect little angel. Did you miss Mommy?”
His tiny hand shoots out and I can’t resist taking a peek. I close the refrigerator door and fold up the bag, then walk over to peer down at him. Just looking at his sweet little face makes me eager for Rafe to get here. Awkwardness seems such a waste of time; I want to get it out of the way so I can enjoy taking part in his family Christmas, comfortable in the knowledge that he isn’t going to run from me the whole time. “God, he is an adorable baby.”
Laurel beams. “He really is. I can’t stop staring at his little face. Everything about him is so perfect, I can’t even take it.”
“You are going to be showered with a lot of love, little mister,” I inform him.
“All the love,” Laurel agrees.
“Maybe too much,” Carly agrees, smiling down at him. “We’re going to try really hard not to turn you into every woman’s worst nightmare, but no promises.”
“My son is not going to be anyone’s nightmare,” Laurel objects, frowning at Carly before returning her love-drunk gaze to the baby. “You’re going to be a little sweetheart, aren’t you? Your daddy’s going to teach you how to be a good man. No breaking hearts.”
“Just faces,” Carly says, glancing at Laurel. “Let’s be realistic, the kid is going to grow up to inherit a criminal empire, so… he’s going to have some bad habits.”
“I don’t want to think about that,” Laurel mutters.
“Plus, he might actually get some qualities from Rafe,” Carly adds.
Sighing, Laurel says, “You’re a buzz kill. We’re going to hang out with the men.”
Rafe barely makes it back in time for dinner. Dinner is so close to being served, Laurel—whom we banished while cooking—has made it back into the kitchen to commence plating salads. I don’t understand why we’re plating food, anyway. I figured we would serve it up family style, but apparently we’re doing this “Morelli family dinner style,” whatever that means.
Apparently, what that means is that the men plant their sexy asses around the table, and we ladies bring them food like their own personal serving wenches. This is what I do for Rafe all the time, but seeing Carly bring Vince his food and Laurel bring Sin his, it feels a little less casual.
Rafe looks up at me when I stop beside him, his intelligent brown eyes scanning my face for signs of trouble.
I offer back open affection as I lean down and put his plate in front of him. “So nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.”
“My shift at the soup kitchen ran late.”
I guffaw, nodding my head. “Of course. Gotta get in those last minute good deeds so Santa doesn’t bring you coal. Good thinking.”
“I think I’m on the permanent coal list,” he informs me.
“Pretty sure we all are,” Vince adds.
“Not us,” Carly puts in, rubbing his shoulders. “The ladies get extra presents for dealing with you punks.”
Vince smirks up at her. “Yeah, you’re a real angel.”
Carly nods, letting him go and sashaying back to the kitchen to get her own plate. “Nice list lifetime member, right here.”
Since Laurel made me Rafe’s unofficial date, I’m seated beside him at the dinner table. As I take my seat, Rafe looks over at me again—still watching. Still waiting. I flash him another smile, then dig into my salad.
Once the salads are finished, we all play personal waitress to “our” men again, clearing away their dishes and bringing out the main course. It’s one of the stupidest things that has ever pleased me, but I won’t lie, I’m pleased as hell to be doing it. I know Rafe didn’t invite me himself, but I’m so glad Laurel did. It was both the best and worst thing she has ever done, because now every Christmas following this one will be haunted by this memory. When the next Cassandra is filling the seat beside him, I’ll have this memory of when it was me.
They’re all intent on destroying my peace of mind. I probably should try harder to stop them, but damn, how am I supposed to turn down a chance to see what the holidays are like with Rafe?
“So, Virginia, how did you get caught up in the Morelli web?” Carly inquires.
“Oh, I’m not in any web,” I tell her, shaking my head and taking a sip of my wine. “Rafe and I are just friends.”
“I can’t picture Rafe having platonic female friends,” she comments.
“Well, technically I’m just his waitress, but given my presence here, that’s a little weirder, isn’t it? So we’ll go with friend. Though, on reflection, you were just wondering whether or not we’re sle
eping together, weren’t you? The answer is no,” I offer.
Carly blinks at me, her fork frozen in the air. “Okay.”
“I think she was just trying to get to know you,” Laurel offers, blushing.
“Mm, no. Slight emphasis on platonic, plus her reaction when Rafe brought me to the hospital to meet Nicholas. I’m not offended, I completely understand, but she’s in protective mama bear mode, making sure I’m not some newbie skank sniffing around Laurel’s territory. I’m not here to step on any toes, I promise. I’m honestly just a friend to all the Vegas inhabitants situated around this table. I’m friends with Sin, too.”
“I don’t have friends,” Sin states.
“We’re friends,” I insist.
“We’re acquaintances,” he tells me.
“This is awkward. I was making us matching bracelets with ‘besties forever’ spelled out in beads. Should I stop?”
Sin rolls his eyes at me and turns his attention back to helping Skylar eat her food so she doesn’t make a mess all over her cute Christmas dress.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Rafe smirking. “What, I don’t get a bracelet?”
“If Sin doesn’t want his, I guess you can have it,” I offer.
“Thanks,” he says dryly.
9
Rafe
Once dinner is finished and everyone is stuffed full of dessert—warm brookies with vanilla ice cream—we’re all forced to watch one of Carly and Laurel’s favorite Smallville Christmas episodes, aptly titled Lexmas.
Somehow, the women still have room for popcorn, and they pass a bowl back and forth while I wonder where the hell they’re putting it. Vince and Sin seem to be more accustomed to their eating habits and think nothing of post-dinner popcorn—or the bad Superman show we’re forced to sit through—but about ten minutes into the episode, Virginia starts side-eying me.
I lean in to whisper, “This was not my choice.”
Since there’s only so much couch space and Sin isn’t hospitable, Sin, Laurel, and Carly are on the couch, Vince is parked on the floor in front of Carly, and Virginia and I are on the floor, couch-adjacent. I didn’t want to sit by Vince, so I put her between us. Watching Vince get hit in the head with the popcorn bowl as Carly passed it to Virginia made these seating arrangements entirely worth it.
Virginia bobs in my direction and murmurs, “Likely story. I bet you got Laurel hooked on this show when you dated. I bet it’s your favorite.”
I roll my eyes. “Damn, my secret’s out.”
“It’s okay,” Virginia assures me. “We all like bad shows from time to time. I went through a phase where I watched America’s Next Top Model. If I had to miss an episode, I would record it and watch it later.”
“That’s horrifying,” I tell her.
She nods her head solemnly. “My secret shame. What’s yours?”
“Well… I have an illegitimate child. And I’m a mob boss, guilty of unspeakable crimes. I’ve murdered before.”
As if none of this is relevant or horrifying, she says, “I meant your secret shame show. What have you watched that you don’t want anyone to know about?”
“Cassandra used to make me watch The Bachelor with her,” I admit. “After a while, I started to find it mildly amusing.”
Nodding sympathetically, she says, “That’s when the brain-melting set in.”
“Exactly.”
“‘I’m not here to make friends,’” she mocks. “I only watched two seasons, but I got the impression they’re all the same. Dumbass bachelor, parade of desperate women with one dropped into the fray that makes you wonder, ‘what the hell is she doing on this show?’ and then the evil bitch character that the dumb-as-dryer-lint bachelor can’t see through, no matter how many women warn him about her. That show is a circus.”
“Spoken like a secret fan,” I tell her.
“I actually don’t watch much TV. Normally, I will watch a pilot to determine whether or not it’s worth potentially reliving, and the answer is almost always no. There are a few shows I’ve watched to completion, but not many.”
“And Smallville wasn’t on that elite list?” I ask, feigning surprise.
Virginia smirks and grabs a few pieces of popcorn. “Weirdly, no.”
“What’s your favorite?”
“Veronica Mars. I’m a die-hard marshmallow. I’ll watch anything Kristen Bell is in, appliance commercials included. She’s a treasure.”
Carly joins the fray. “Listen, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but my ears perk up when I hear things I vehemently agree with. Logan or Piz?”
As if disgusted, Virginia scrunches her face up. “Is that even a question? Logan.”
Resting a hand against her heart in relief, Carly says, “Oh, good. I didn’t want to have to throw down on Christmas Eve.”
“Kristen Bell is pretty amazing,” Laurel agrees.
“A little blonde ray of sunshine,” Virginia states, passing the popcorn bowl over Vince’s head—without hitting him, this time.
Carly takes the bowl and nods her head at me. “He’s never seen Frozen.”
Virginia shakes her head in mock disappointment. “What does he even do with his time?”
Laurel chimes in with a solution. “Now that we have Nicholas, we have an excuse to force him to watch it.”
“Nicholas does not want me to watch Frozen,” I state.
“He does,” Laurel replies, nodding her head. “He told me.”
“You probably won’t agree with me on this,” Carly begins to Virginia, “but Rafe is totally Hans.”
“Rafe is not—” Virginia pauses in her defense of my character. “All right, depending upon the perspective, I could see how Rafe could maybe come off as Hans.”
Carly harrumphs with satisfaction. “See, she gets it.”
“If I ever do watch this damned movie, it’ll only be because I want to know why people keep calling me that,” I mutter.
“Because you’re definitely Hans,” Virginia whispers.
“We can watch it tomorrow,” Laurel announces cheerfully. “Skylar loves that movie. We got her an Elsa and Anna jewelry box for Christmas. It sings the snowman song.”
“Good God.” I lean forward and look around. “Is there a box we’re supposed to drop our man cards into when we step through the front door, or…?”
Vince looks over at me and smirks. “If your hold on your man card is so delicate that it’s threatened by watching shitty shows with the girls, you probably shouldn’t have one in the first place.”
Uncharacteristically agreeing with his brother-in-law, Sin nods his head. “It’s not such a big deal. The blow jobs we’ll get later will more than make up for it. If the kids are in bed, you might even get one during. I love Smallville.”
Laurel smirks and leans into Sin’s side. “Damn right you do.”
My eyebrows rise with interest and I look at Virginia. “Does a viewing of Frozen come with a blow job? I might be willing to change my stance under those circumstances.”
“Not from me. I don’t see Sin letting Laurel give you one, and Carly might bite your dick off. Neither guy rolls that way, so I think you’re out of luck,” she concludes with a grimace.
“I like her,” Carly decides.
I like her, too, but instead of saying that, I shake my head. “See, that’s what’s missing for me. No pay-off.”
“Poor Rafe,” Virginia says, patting my thigh.
I gave her the perfect opening, so I wait for her to make a dig about the other night. Maybe tell me I should ask Galina for a blow job if I’m so hard up. It never comes, though. I know it’s not because she hasn’t thought of it; Virginia has a quick wit, so if she wanted to throw a jab, she wouldn’t struggle to find the material. Apparently, she doesn’t. The moment passes and she turns her attention back to the TV.
After Smallville, we watch A Christmas Carol. While the movie is on, Laurel lets Sin take the slumbering 7lb bundle that is Nicholas and put him in his crib. She follows him
and comes back with an armful of wrapped presents. Carly hops off the couch and follows, then Laurel, Sin, and Carly come back with even more presents. Carly arranges them around the Christmas tree so Laurel doesn’t have to get down on the floor. Laurel supervises the project and Sin stands by her side, apparently surprised by how much thought and care goes into gift arrangement. I know when everyone brought gifts to Ellie’s birthday, we just stacked them wherever they fit on a picnic table with a pink plastic table cover thrown over it. Laurel and Carly seem to be orchestrating a complex set-up worthy of LEGO that should come with a manual, accordingly.
I’ll give it to them, though, when they’re finished, there’s not a single empty patch beneath that tree. I tell myself this is just because it’s their first Christmas with a baby, but I have a feeling it isn’t. Carly is a mama bear who doesn’t do anything half-assed, including present arrangement, so I bet this is Vince’s life. Once he and Carly reproduce, every Christmas Eve thereafter, assembling presents around the tree will be like getting a box of LEGO bricks without instructions. Poor little bastard. At least she’s hot, I guess.
Vince remains on the floor in front of the couch, but he doesn’t care about the movie and he is not as fascinated by Carly’s present arrangement skills as I am, so he’s on his iPhone. When Carly finishes with the gifts, she sits on the couch behind him and glances down at the screen of his phone. She frowns faintly, as if slightly worried, then leans down and wraps her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder.
“He looks adorable,” she comments.
Vince nods his agreement. “He thinks he’s being sneaky, eating Santa’s cookies.”
“A little scamp after my own heart,” Carly says, lightly. “I like his PJs.”
“I bet he’s excited,” Vince mumbles, clearly feeling left out. Judging by his tone and their comments, I assume Mia must have sent him a Christmas Eve picture of her son, Dom.
“I’m sure he is,” Carly says, injecting a little more pleasure into her tone to subtly guide him. “He’s going to have a great day with all his siblings tomorrow. Can you even imagine how many presents are going to be stashed under that ginormous tree tonight? I bet it’s little kid heaven.”