Christmas Dinner (Crimson Romance)

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Christmas Dinner (Crimson Romance) Page 12

by Neeley, Robyn


  Chloe let go of her mother and ran into the living room. Amanda followed the little girl and knelt down next to the tree. She watched as Chloe reached out and touched a snowflake hanging at the very bottom. “He made this one for me. I wish he was here,” she said sadly, looking down at the carpet.

  Amanda’s heart melted. She was certain that Tate had promised this little girl he’d have dinner with her. She reached over and touched the glittering piece of white construction paper. “What a beautiful snowflake. Tate made this?”

  Chloe nodded. He said he’d bring me and my sister extra cookies for Santa Claus. Santa might stop by tonight and bring us gifts if he doesn’t run out of time like he always does.”

  Amanda looked up at Kristen. She understood what Chloe meant.

  “Chloe, go get your sister. Dinner is almost ready.” Kristen motioned her daughter to the front room. “Things were especially rough last year,” she explained.

  Amanda nodded and returned to the kitchen. “May I join you in Tate’s place?” She pointed to the table.

  Kristen nodded with excitement. “Absolutely! We’d love for you to stay for dinner. Do you like spaghetti?”

  “I love it! Plus, a night where I don’t have to watch my carbs will do me some good.” She took off her coat, placed it behind her chair, and sat down. Chloe and Danielle dashed into the kitchen, taking their seats across from her.

  “Miss Amanda, is joining us.” Kristen set a plate full of garlic bread on the table.

  “Girls, I know I’m not Tate, but he sent me here to have dinner with you both and your mother. Would that be okay?”

  Chloe stared at Amanda with big eyes. “Do you wanna say grace?”

  “I would love to.” She turned to Kristen. “Are you sure this is okay?”

  “Of course.” She set a huge plate of spaghetti in front of Amanda. “It’s not every day that we dine with a celebrity.”

  Amanda laughed. “I’m hardly famous. Oh, you know what I forgot? Dad—I mean Tate, asked me to bring some extra cookies for Santa. I’ll just go get them out of the car so they don’t get hard in the cold. I’ll be right back.”

  “Yay!” Chloe screamed out loud from her chair. “I told you he would bring more cookies for Santa, Mommy.”

  Amanda headed out the door with her jacket. She wrapped her arms around her body to shield her from the cold.

  Well, this was an unexpected turn of events. Why didn’t Tate tell her this was where he was going tonight? He certainly had made an impression on those little girls inside, especially Chloe. Something must have happened this morning that touched his heart.

  She had an idea. Pulling out her phone from her pocket, she dialed her parents’ number.

  “Brenda, hi! Is Tate still asleep?”

  “I think so. He hasn’t been down.”

  “Good. Just let him sleep. Listen, I know the message I’d like inscribed on the rock. ‘Christmas dinner.’”

  “Christmas dinner?”

  “Correct.”

  “Can I spell it with an ‘X’?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “No problem then. I’ll start working on it right now.”

  “Thanks, Brenda! I’ll be home soon.”

  She clicked her phone off and walked back to the trailer. She thought about calling her father, but hesitated. She suspected he’d known what he was doing by sending her here, and she was exactly where she was supposed to be this evening.

  • • •

  Tate stared out the guest room window at the lights on the lawn and bit into a cookie. He was a little groggy from his nap, and his ankle still hurt. He watched the strangers below who had gathered to see the Turners’ holiday display.

  Where was Amanda? He moved from the window and lay back down on the bed. She’d asked him if she was a better kisser than Melanie. He thought back to that freezing night twenty years ago and his first kiss . . .

  • • •

  Tate brushed his cold hand over his face. It was instantly wet, as a fresh coating of tears stained his cheeks. He didn’t understand why his mother was making him leave town in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop crying.

  He jammed his hands into his coat pocket and leaned up against the old station wagon, watching his mother pump gas into it from the other side. Where were they going? His mother was in a conversation with a man behind her who was also pumping gas for his truck. He locked eyes with a young girl who was sitting inside. She was staring at him.

  He looked away. The last three months had been one long nightmare. However, it didn’t start out that way. Last spring had been one of the best of his young life—making the junior varsity baseball team at his new school and getting straight B’s, an academic first, making his parents proud. Then he’d spent last summer at camp where he learned to water ski and fish on the Finger Lakes. His mom promised she’d send him to camp again next year. He was going to hold her to that promise.

  Fall had not been kind to his family. In late September, his dad suddenly dropped to the ground at work and was rushed to the emergency room where he passed away of a heart attack shortly after being admitted. He was only thirty-nine. Now Tate and his mom were all alone, still new in the area, and without family for support.

  “Tate. Tate, dear . . .” his mom called out, snapping him out of his trance. “Here.” She walked over and handed him a ten-dollar bill. “Why don’t you go get us a couple of sodas and some snacks for the trip?”

  He took the money. “Whatever.” He was angry with his mother for making him leave the only place he’d ever considered home. She never let him drink soda. It was an attempt to make things right, but he wasn’t ready to call a truce. He’d liked living here. He’d made good grades and had friends. Didn’t that account for anything?

  As he walked into the adjoining convenience store, he could hear the faint sound of Christmas music. He headed to the back refrigerator and selected two cans of Coke. From out of nowhere, the girl from the truck appeared. She had straight blond hair tied back in a ponytail and big green eyes.

  “Hey, you dropped this outside.” The girl handed Tate the ten dollars his mother had given him.

  “Thank you,” he said. He took the bill and shook a little snow off it.

  “Are you excited about Santa?”

  “Huh?”

  “You know. Santa Claus. He’s coming tonight. It’s Christmas Eve.”

  “I’m too old for Santa,” he said in disgust, looking the girl up and down. She was wearing acid washed jeans similar to his own and red and white striped legwarmers. She could be around his age. Maybe two or three years younger. “Aren’t you too old, too?”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still believe.”

  “That’s for kids.” Tate reached out in front of the girl and grabbed a bag of potato chips. He headed toward the cash register, handed the money to the man behind the counter, and waited for his change.

  “Why were you crying?” The girl had come up behind him.

  “I wasn’t crying.” He was starting to get agitated. Why wouldn’t this girl go away? “Boys don’t cry.”

  “You were.”

  “Were not.”

  “Was not,” she corrected.

  He pushed his way out the door. The last thing he wanted was to get into an argument with this smart aleck girl.

  “Tate, you about ready?” his mom called out and got into the driver’s side of their station wagon.

  The girl followed him outside. “Wait. I have something for you. Let me just ask my dad if it’s okay.” She ran over to the truck.

  “I don’t want it,” he yelled back. Geez, she really was annoying. He hadn’t realized girls could be so irritating. She bounced back over to him.

  “Here.”

  “I said I didn’t want it.”

  “Just take it. They’re cookies. Christmas cookies to leave for Santa. You’re never too old to believe.”

  Tate f
rowned. “Thanks,” he muttered and got into the car.

  The girl skipped back to the truck.

  His mom grabbed the box from him. “Well that was awfully nice. Do you know that girl?” She opened it, showing him a dozen sugar cookies in different Christmas shapes inside.

  “No.”

  His mom picked up a tree shaped cookie and took a bite. “Yum. Want one?”

  “No.” He stared straight ahead. “Can we go now?”

  There was a knock on the passenger window. Tate looked over to see the girl peering in the window. He ignored her.

  “Tate, where are your manners? Honestly. Roll down your window,” his mother ordered.

  He reluctantly grabbed the car’s handle and began to turn it. “What?” he asked.

  “My dad asked me to see if you’re allergic to milk because there is eggnog in these cookies. It’s my mom’s secret ingredient. Merry Christmas!” With that, the girl planted a soft kiss on his lips and quickly ran away. His first kiss.

  Tate leaned his head out the window. “Hey, what’s your name?”

  The girl turned around and flashed him a smile. “Amanda.”

  • • •

  “Tate, are you awake?”

  “Mom?” He sat up and called out into the dark room. Without his glasses, he could barely make out the figure standing in the doorway.

  “I sound like your mother? Seriously, dude? My truck didn’t hit you that hard.” Alex walked over to the nightstand and switched on the lamp.

  Tate rubbed his eyes. “Alex. Let me guess. You’ve come back to take care of my other ankle?” It wouldn’t really suprise him if he had.

  “Nah, you’re safe. Brenda sent me up here to wake you up.”

  “Thanks, man, what time is it?”

  “Seven o’clock on the nose.”

  “Shoot. That late?” Tate swung his legs over the bed and picked up his phone from the nightstand. No calls from Melanie. “Damn, I’m late.”

  “What? Do you have somewhere to go? Or should I ask . . . someone to meet?”

  “No,” Tate shot back. He really didn’t need Alex’s insinuating attitude right now. There was still so much he needed to do tonight. “Hey, can you hand me those?” He pointed to the other side of the room.

  Alex bent down and handed Tate his boots. “You can’t seriously drive with that ankle?”

  True. Where was Amanda, and why hadn’t she woken him an hour ago like he had asked her to?

  His ankle was still throbbing. He’d need to take another pain reliever to get through the next couple of hours, which meant he’d need a co-pilot to drive him. Unfortunately, Alex fit the bill.

  “Actually, yes, I do have someone to meet. She’s five and has a sister who’s four. And you’re coming with me.” He stood. “Do you have an elf costume?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Amanda walked over to the sink with a handful of dirty dishes. Kristen intercepted her, grabbing the plates from her hands.

  “Oh, no you don’t. You’re our guest,” she insisted. “Thanks for having dinner with us. The girls love you.”

  Amanda glanced at Chloe and Danielle. Both girls had moved from the dining table to the living room and now sat mesmerized in front of the television watching Frosty the Snowman. A torn VHS tape cover laid on the carpet next to them.

  Kristen followed Amanda’s gaze. “Those girls are going to wear out that tape!” She winked. “With any luck.”

  Amanda laughed and continued to help clear the table. “They’re just excited for Christmas. Your girls are really sweet.”

  “Sweet,” Kristen repeated. “Spoken by someone who doesn’t have young ones yet. They are on extra good behavior tonight because of S-A-N-T-A.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “I have a few small presents in my room that I’m gonna bring out when they’re in bed. A couple of Barbie dolls and some puzzles. The church we go to had an adopt-a-family program this year. The girls wrote down what they wanted for Christmas on a paper tree.”

  Amanda pressed a lid down on the butter container and opened the refrigerator. “It’s been a tough year, huh?” The sparse shelves gave her the answer.

  “Yeah, their dad skipped out before Christmas last year. No good bum. I didn’t have any money to buy the girls gifts and was too embarrassed to ask for help.” She shook her. “Not this year. I saw your dad’s advertisement in the Pennysaver, and knew I was gonna get me and the girls at least a tree this year.”

  “Well, it’s gorgeous. My dad saves the best trees for this day.” Her eyes rested on Tate’s white snowflake still hanging from its branch on the very bottom. “I’m just sorry that Tate couldn’t be here. He had an accident earlier.”

  “Accident? Oh, no. Is he okay?”

  “Oh, he’ll be fine. It’s just a bad ankle sprain. He’s at my parents’ house resting it. The doctor gave him some pretty powerful painkillers that knocked him out.” She reached over and picked up a dish towel. “Here, let me help you dry those. Four hands are always quicker than two.”

  In no time, all the dishes were clean and put away. Kristen moved to the living room, picking up around Chloe and Danielle who were still planted on the floor watching TV.

  Amanda wrung out the sponge she’d used to wipe the counter and washed her hands. It was really nice to spend time with Kristen and the girls. She’d forgotten just how special the residents in this town were. Checking her watch, she saw that it was almost seven thirty. A wave of guilt ran through her. She wished she hadn’t deliberately told Brenda to not wake Tate up until seven. She hoped he wouldn’t be too mad at her.

  Bright headlights flashed through the kitchen window, ricocheting off her sweater. “Hey, Kristen,” she called out. “Looks like you may have some more company.”

  “Good heavens, we’re quite popular today. I wonder who it is.” Kristen walked to the door and she stepped onto the porch. “Watch your step, you two. I’ve got furniture pieces strewn everywhere. My New Year’s resolution is to get rid of everything out there.”

  Amanda heard a familiar male voice exchanging Christmas greetings.

  “Brad, Melanie.” Amanda came up behind Kristen. “What are you two doing here?”

  Melanie waddled in behind him. “We’re sorry we’re late. Where’s Tate?”

  “He’s home.” Amanda was thoroughly confused. “Wait, you knew he was planning on having dinner here?” Of course she did. Apparently being Tate Ryan’s first kiss gave you all kinds of special privileged information.

  Kristen shut the door and put her hands on her hips. “Okay, can someone tell me what’s going on?”

  Melanie lowered her voice. “Your girls have a very special surprise coming. We thought he’d be here by now. We ran into some traffic in the center of town.”

  “What are you up to?” Kristen grabbed a cigarette from the counter. She reached for her lighter but then appeared to change her mind. She studied Brad. “Well, at least if the town cop is involved, I know it’s nothing illegal.” She cocked an eyebrow. “It’s nothing illegal, is it?”

  “No. It’s not.” Brad chuckled.

  “Then what is it?” Kristen asked.

  “You don’t know?” Melanie looked at Kristen and then Amanda. “Either of you?”

  “No—why don’t you tell us?” Amanda scoffed. Why had Tate confided in Melanie and not her?

  Melanie continued to speak in a low voice so Chloe and Danielle couldn’t hear her. “A mysterious Santa gave me some money earlier today and specific instructions to purchase toys for the girls. Brad’s squad car is filled with games, stuffed animals, and books. Santa asked us to meet him at seven, but he just texted me that he was running late.” She unzipped her jacket and laughed. “Sleigh problems.”

  Amanda’s heart melted as she realized what Melanie was really telling them. This was exactly where Tate planned to be tonight. He was going to have dinner with the girls and then surprise them with new toys. “This Santa wouldn’t happen to be six feet tall with dark brown h
air and blue eyes, would he?”

  “Maybe,” Melanie said coyly.

  “Who is it?” Kristen asked.

  Amanda glanced over at the girls. It was all starting to make sense. “It’s Tate.”

  “Really? He bought gifts for my girls? Well, why on earth would he do that? He just met us this morning.”

  Amanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Tate mentioned that he had to be somewhere at six. I didn’t know he was talking about Kristen’s.” She looked away, completely embarrassed. Here she had spent the last twenty-four hours licking her old wounds and being irrationally jealous of a stupid teenage kiss, when Brad and Melanie were working with Tate to bring some Christmas magic to a family that really deserved it. She felt like a heel.

  “Kristen, can you distract your girls for a couple of minutes while I help Brad bring in the toys?” Amanda asked. “We’ll leave them on the porch until Tate gets here.”

  “You bet! I can’t believe this. What a sweet, sweet boyfriend you have there, Amanda. Where did you find a man like Tate?” Kristen walked into the living room and spun around. “And does he have a twin?”

  Clapping her hands together twice, Kristen motioned for the girls to follow her. “Okay, you two, let’s go get into your pajamas and then you can pick out one bedtime story to read. Maybe Miss Melanie can help us select a book.”

  Amanda grabbed her jacket and followed Brad out to his squad car. Sure enough, it was filled to the brim with holiday shopping bags. She could hardly see the back seat. “Wow. This is amazing. You and Melanie bought all these toys?”

  Brad opened the trunk. “Along with these.” It was also filled with toys. “Tate paid for most of this. We chipped in what we could.”

  Amanda peered in. The shopping bags were overflowing with beautifully wrapped presents and stuffed animals decorated in red bows. “You did all this shopping this afternoon?”

  “Yep. Tate had the hospital call the toy store and asked them to put certain toys aside for when Mel and I got there to save us some time.”

  Amanda could see a fluffy white beard and a red hat sticking out of one of the bags. “Oh, God. I’m so stupid. That’s why he was thanking Nurse Erin this afternoon.” It was all making sense.

 

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