“You spent the holiday eating a frozen dinner.”
Her mother’s voice carried over the phone into the open space of the short hall and living room. Waverly prayed Dominic didn’t hear, but the questioning look on his face told her he did. “Ma.” Waverly grunted. “I will call you back later.”
“Wait,” Jillian exclaimed. “I want to remind you that you have less than a few weeks to get your act together to win this ridiculous runoff.”
“I know, Ma.”
“And after that you will not have that much time to get your act together for the Miss Georgia Pageant. We need to talk about your plan to bring your weight down.”
A dimple appeared at the corner of Dominic’s cheek. Did he always have a dimple? Waverly blinked and tried once again to focus on her mother. “I am working out but I’ve got a bigger response on social media for curves. People like them.”
Dominic nodded in appreciation.
“You think?” Jillian’s high-pitched voice reeked of sarcasm. “Or do you think you’re winning over a group of people who want to see beauty pageants turn into a contact sport? Had I known you even won Miss Southwood rather than finding out through social media about that and your brawl—”
“Listen, Ma.” Waverly interrupted quickly. “I’ve got to go. I promise I’m going to call you later.” She hung up before her mother gave another embarrassing detail or guilted Waverly for not telling her about winning Miss Southwood.
“You didn’t go home for the holidays?” Dominic asked, coming from behind the counter. Waverly willed her feet to bring her closer into the split living room. She watched quietly while Dominic strolled over to the balcony. He bent over to examine the box of lights and decorations.
“Southwood is my home,” Waverly answered, closing the gap between them. “Thanks again for the coffee.”
“Two sugars and the sugar cookie creamer you mentioned you liked.”
Waverly blinked in disbelief.
“I remembered because you went on about the flavors of coffee on our date.” Dominic tried to recover. The sun caught a slight blush on his cheeks. “I remember thinking the flavor of coffee should be...coffee.”
Playfully rolling her eyes as if she were annoyed, Waverly motioned toward the cream-colored couch. How could anyone be annoyed with a man like him bringing her a much-needed brew? “That wasn’t a date—we were celebrating my win.”
“Our win,” he corrected her. Dominic glanced down at his attire before sitting. “So how’d you know I’d need coffee?”
“Alisha came to the garage late this morning,” Dominic said. “She swore being late today was not her fault and mentioned the blackout before I started to fire her. Are these your only decorations?”
So much for family loyalty, Waverly thought with a frown. “Were you going to fire her?”
“I was tempted,” said Dominic as he stood up with the box in his arms. It was too light for the bulge of his biceps to emerge, so Waverly was pretty sure he was showing off for her. “This is sad,” he said with a quick shake of his head. “Maybe while we’re out today we can pick up some decent decorations.”
Waverly sat down adjacent to Dominic. Her bare knees touched his jeans-clad ones. No barrier between them stopped the heat rising. “Why do you think we’re going out today?”
“Because Kenzie sent a message to us to pick up some dresses,” said Dominic.
Flipping the phone over in her hand, Waverly checked for the mail icon and found it. Kenzie’s name appeared by the envelope. “Well, I guess she did.”
“I figured you were ready.” He pointed at the tiara on top of her head. “What are you going to do for a tree?”
“I have a picture of a tree I’m going to hang up on the wall. As a matter of fact, it should be folded up in the box.”
Dominic shook his head and hung it low. Waverly wondered what he did to keep his curls looking so soft. She refrained from touching the top of his head. She hated it when she was in pageant mode and someone wanted to touch her bouffant.
“My Christmas spirit weeps for you.” Dominic glanced up. The light caught his brown eyes, turning them copper.
“Speaking of Christmas, I really like the way you’re treating the town with your cars so everyone can enjoy the parade. I didn’t realize you owned so many.” Waverly sat back into the cushions, crossing one leg over the other, well aware of Dominic’s eyes on her. She cleared her throat and he glanced up, making eye contact. Waverly’s heart fluttered, not sure which she’d rather have more: him staring at her legs or looking into her eyes.
“Let’s just say I came into a fleet.” Dominic’s jaw twitched. “I don’t think I won over Mayor Ascot.”
“Anson,” Waverly corrected him with a smirk. “I know you know his name.”
“He didn’t seem too pleased about me honoring the mistletoe tradition.” Dominic teased her with an enticing side smile.
“Honoring tradition. ” She scoffed, hoping her snark would stop the blush threatening. “Is that what you call it?”
Dominic’s shoulders rose and fell. “So, do I need to be worried?”
“Worried about what?” Waverly asked.
“According to what Kenzie told me, you’ve just about collected all decades of clothing for your idea.”
“Begging for donations at five county fairs, fifty football homecomings, twenty hospitals and the thirty or so senior citizen homes worked.” Waverly relaxed against the cushions of the couch after stating her recollection. “What do you have to be worried about?”
“You won’t need me.”
Need or want? Waverly asked inwardly. “I’ll admit I’ve been busy.”
Being busy had helped keep her mind off Dominic’s absence. But he didn’t need to know that.
“So I need to make sure the amount of time we spend together counts,” Dominic explained. “Let’s see... Tomorrow is the first, so we’ve got twenty-five days together, spending time to create the perfect parade.”
Waverly’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile. Twenty-five days of Dominic? Her heart raced with excitement. “Providing you don’t have to leave again.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s right,” Waverly said, “you’ve got this Kris Kringle thing going.”
Dominic nodded and answered quickly, “Yep.” He stood up and stretched. Waverly found herself licking her lips, enthralled with the shape of his body in his clothes. She could only imagine what he looked like with them off. “So, are you ready to get going?”
“What do you mean?”
Dominic pointed toward her phone. “We’ve got to go pick up some dresses. Kenzie’s orders, remember?”
“Where are we going?”
“Someplace across the county line,” Dominic said with a shrug. “We can catch lunch there and then, when we get back, if you don’t mind, I’d like to help you get your Advent calendars together.”
Waverly tilted her head to the side. She’d like that...she’d like it very much.
* * *
“This is some spread,” Dominic said and whistled when they pulled up to the curb of address Kenzie provided them. He stepped around the black 1940 Packard and opened the door for Waverly. Like any other red-blooded American man’s would, his eyes went toward her legs. Waverly had changed into a knee-length tan skirt and an orange sweater with a collar that teased him with a hint of her shoulders. The skirt rose just to her thighs when she turned in her seat to set her tan heels on the ground. Wind cooled his bottom lip, which he absentmindedly licked at the sight of her stems.
“Oh my God, this place is gorgeous.” Waverly’s eyes lit up as she took in the structure. “When I retire from the pageant world, I want to own a place like this and raise a family.”
Dominic gave her a wink and took
mental note of her dream house. The Italian Renaissance revival house reeked of living history. From the outside of the redbrick home, it appeared to have at least four floors. But given Dominic’s love for history and the age of the house, he was willing to bet on a few extra nonvisible floors. He secretly hoped the Harveys would give them a tour of the mansion. Dominic was dying to get a look at the cupola, the white dome with a gold cap that topped the flat roof. This was one of the many things Dominic loved about living in Georgia. It was so rich with the past. An American flag swayed in the wind high up on the flagpole. He wondered if a rebel flag had ever hung from it. He wouldn’t have been surprised.
The dark pine double doors opened and an older, dark-skinned African American man stepped out first, dressed in Civil War Union Blues. A half second later, a pleasantly plump woman in a patchwork dress followed. Her gloved hands went to her mouth and her eyes widened with what seemed to be excitement.
“Welcome,” the two chorused.
Waverly reached for Dominic’s hand. Her little fingers curled around the side of his hand. “Here we go,” she said under her breath. Glancing down, Dominic watched as she transformed herself from the slouch in the passenger seat to a full-fledged beauty queen, seven-inch tiara included.
“Mr. and Mrs. Harvey.” Waverly greeted the elderly couple with a strong, boisterous, peppy voice. Her smile, causing her eyes to crinkle in the corners, spread across her face. “Thank you so much for having us.”
“Oh, we’re so blessed to have you,” said Mrs. Harvey, stepping down off her wraparound porch. “Please, I’m Fannie, and this is my husband, Stan. We know you two are probably on a tight schedule and want to get back on the road, but we hope you’ll stay for lunch.”
“Considering your sizable donation, we’d be willing to spend the night.” Waverly laughed.
“Really?” Fannie asked eagerly. “We can have the fourth floor set up for the two of you.”
“Fourth?” Waverly repeated. “I only counted two levels.”
Once they climbed the dozen or so wide front porch steps, Stan held the doors open for the two of them to enter. Everyone’s footsteps sounded off the hardwood floors of the porch and changed in pitch when they all entered the marble hallway. Dominic tried not to gasp in awe too much.
“You look like a man who appreciates historic things,” said Mr. Harvey, slapping him on the back. “I can tell by the car you’re driving. Packard?”
“Yes, sir,” Dominic confirmed with a nod. “It’s been a project of mine.”
Waverly placed her hand on Dominic’s forearm. He felt her pride as she spoke about his profession. “Dominic restores old cars. Maybe you’ve heard of his company? Crowne’s Garage?”
Mr. Harvey’s mouth twisted as he nodded. “Yep, your name is well known in my circle of friends. I see you’re missing your winged goddess.”
Dominic turned and sighed at the missing hood ornament. “Yes, I’m in search of one.”
“I might know some folks who can help out.” Stan left his hand on Dominic’s shoulder. “You’re a big fellow, ain’t you? Ever thought of doing some reenacting?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Dominic leaned closer to make sure he’d heard correctly.
“Fannie and I are Civil War reenactors,” he said, glancing down at himself. “We have a speaking engagement after lunch.”
Good to know. Dominic was worried they dressed like this on a day-to-day basis.
“We could always use a strong guy like yourself,” Stan went on. “And I’m sure one of my friends might be able to help you out with your missing ornament.”
Ahead of the men, Waverly cast a glance over her right shoulder and gave Dominic a slight smile. “Please say you’ll do it.”
Dominic scratched the back of his neck. He was willing to give and do anything for Waverly, but dressing up and playing soldier? He’d have to think twice. Thankfully Fannie Harvey filled the short walk into the formal sitting room with the history of the house.
Mrs. Fannie Harvey led them down the main level, or proper level, as she explained. During a light lunch of crustless pimento cheese sandwiches and sweet tea, she gave them a history lesson about their home’s changes of hands over the years. The house once belonged to a man named George Harvey, Stan’s great-grandfather. He was born before the Civil War and raised as a slave but served in the house because the owner was his biological father. When the war broke out, the white owners, the Harveys, were allowed to sit out and send their slaves as their representatives. George went to war and survived. When he returned, the Harveys had sold off the rest of his family in order to maintain their lifestyle. George headed down to Southwood and married a nice woman. When he turned sixty-nine, World War I broke out and the original Harveys put their home up for sale. This was not an uncommon event for a lot of families who stayed in the South. The structure didn’t sell until the stock market crashed ten years later. George gathered all his and his family’s money together and purchased the building for a sweet price. The Harveys had been passing down their home from generation to generation.
“And with our kids all grown and on the verge of being on their own once they find jobs,” Fannie finished, “we’ve just been finding things around here to give to good homes.”
“We’d seen you, Waverly, serving the veterans on Thursday,” Stan said. “And it stuck with us.”
“That, and you look so much like George’s mother, Sissy Harvey.” Fannie reached in the folds of her skirt and extracted a silver locket. She opened the tiny lock and showed Waverly and Dominic the old grainy black-and-white photo of a woman and man filling the circular space.
Waverly’s mouth opened wide. “She does look like we could be some kin. I’ll have to ask my mother what she knows.”
Dominic peered over his glass of tea at Waverly. She sat with her elbows on the table, enthralled with the story. She was so animated at every bit of detail. Fannie pushed the locket close to Dominic’s face.
“Interesting,” he said. The image favored Waverly with her dark hair and large oval eyes.
A grandfather clock chimed noon. Waverly sighed and rose to her feet. Everyone stood with her. “I can’t thank y’all enough for sharing your history with us.”
Dominic glanced at his phone and noted a storm was predicted to hit Southwood before nightfall. Fannie and Stan bade the two of them goodbye, waving them off and watching as Dominic secured the outfits in the trunk of the car. Waverly sat in her passenger seat with her legs crossed and had never looked sexier.
“Why did you allow your mother to think you were alone for Thanksgiving?” Dominic asked Waverly as he pulled the old car onto the road. “Serving vets was a prime opportunity for the pageant board to see you in your element.”
Beside him, Waverly shrugged. “According to my mother, if the cameras aren’t on, it’s not worth it.” She sighed heavily and twisted her slender hands together in her lap.
Dominic gripped the steering wheel tighter. Proud of himself, he owed himself a beer for behaving right now. Didn’t Waverly realize what a temptation she was? “Your mom sounds, ah, interesting,” he said for lack of a better word. He couldn’t say what truly came to mind: controlling and domineering.
“I’m her only daughter,” Waverly said. “I’ve gone further in the pageant circuit than she has, and so I believe she’s living vicariously through me.”
“Serving veterans as a regular person instead of as Miss Southwood wouldn’t please her?” Dominic asked, cutting his eyes over.
“In Jillian’s book, anything other than pageanting is pathetic, especially with the runoff coming up.” Waverly flashed him a sly smile. “I serve because it’s the right thing to do. I didn’t ask for publicity like Vera did down in Savannah. My father was in the Marines. I knew I’d be by myself this holiday. When I started feeling sorry for myself, I thought about all
the soldiers away from family. I had to go down and serve. The lunch was for them, not to spotlight me.”
The distant sound of imaginary wedding bells rang through his ears. Dominic couldn’t wait for this pageant crap to be over with. Concentrating on the road, he took the exit leading north. Waverly cocked her head at him.
“We have one more stop before I bring you home,” Dominic explained.
Waverly’s large brown eyes widened. “What kind of stop?”
“I’m getting you a proper Christmas tree for your place.”
Dominic veered off the interstate toward a sign offering the state’s best trees. This morning his strict instructions had been to take Waverly upstate to the Harveys’ and get the wardrobe. Mission accomplished.
“I really don’t need a tree,” Waverly argued.
“Sure you do. Let’s go.”
The lot allowed people to come and chop down their own trees once they found the right one. He pretended to allow Waverly to decide what kind she wanted, and she at last chose wisely with each frown he gave. Finally Waverly picked the right one and Dominic got the chance to show off his brawny skills by chopping down the tree and bringing it back to the car. However, he had to eat crow when they drove down the road a bit and the tree slid off the roof as Dominic swerved to avoid hitting a deer.
* * *
“Far be it from me to be the one to say I told you so,” Waverly said as she leaned her tan-skirt-clad hip against the side of the Packard. Before they left the parking lot, Waverly strongly suggested he cross the ties for a securer hold. But he knew what he was doing. She pressed her lips together to keep from actually saying, “I told you so.”
A spot of black grease was streaked across Dominic’s face. The sun had long ago sank and the moon had appeared. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Waverly batted her lashes. “And I am an able body, too. Please let me help.”
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