by Lauren Dane
Of course, she took that as a personal challenge and had been working on the guy for the past three months.
She loved the shape of it. Curvy, like her, she supposed. When he held it onstage, hopefully, he’d think of her.
“Honestly, I think you’re a freaking wizard for getting Ed to sell this to you. Also, when Paddy gets over his freak out of joy he’s going to frown at you for what this must have cost.”
“It’s my money. I wanted him to have it.”
Ezra kissed her forehead and watched her wrap it. “I’ve never seen a package look so professionally wrapped outside a department store. You could slice tomatoes with those corners.”
“I worked in a department store when I was in high school. I was the queen of the holiday wrapping counter.” She huffed a breath on her nails, shining them against her shoulder.
“I bet. So you’re staying up our way, right? I mean...” Ezra looked around the house. He’d insisted on accompanying her to Eugene where she’d taken custody of the guitar from Ed, a crusty old dude who’d been the one and only owner. “Tuesday’s not around?”
She hid her smile. Both of them thought it was easy to hide their mutual fascination with one another from her.
“She flew out to Tennessee first thing with her parents. They’re having a huge family reunion at her great-aunt’s house. Apparently, all her extended family are coming in from all over the country to celebrate her great-aunt and -uncle’s sixty-fifth wedding anniversary.”
“Wow, that’s pretty awesome. She’s from Tennessee?”
“She was raised in Olympia. Her mom was born and raised there and met Tuesday’s dad while she was going to college in Virginia. They came back to Olympia after they graduated and married. He’s a former hippie who owns a roofing company, and she’s an engineer. His folks are from Tennessee. Cookeville.”
“Small world. My mom and dad are from Columbia and thereabouts. Both grew up on farms.”
“You two have a lot in common. You should ask her to dinner sometime.”
He gave her a look, and she tried to stay serious.
“What?”
“Her best friend is my brother’s girlfriend. I’ll wait a bit to see how that works out before I make connections.”
She picked up the case and put a bow on it. “Yes, I’m spending the night. Also, so are you saying you think Paddy and I are going to crash and burn?”
He choked. “What? No! How the hell did you get that? Christ, women. You’re all the devil. As it happens, I think you and Paddy are good together, and thank goodness he does, too. You keep him calm. He didn’t even bloody Vaughan’s or Damien’s nose. Not once.”
“Pfft, he gave Vaughan a black eye, and he split your lip and Vaughan’s. Twice. If that’s calm, God help us the next time you guys record.”
“Says the woman who charmed this guitar out of Ed Chasen to give to Paddy Hurley. Seriously, this guy hates my brother.”
“How about we load this into the car along with those presents over there? I’ll grab my bag and meet you at your car and then on the way over to the ranch, you can tell me the Ed and Paddy story?”
“Okay. But only if you tell me how you charmed him.”
“Deal.”
She ran upstairs to grab her bag with her clothes and toiletries. She already had stuff at Paddy’s house, which made her happy. But she had some Christmas presents she’d give him in private, too.
She locked the house up and met him at his truck where he opened her door—Sharon Hurley didn’t raise boys who didn’t open doors for other people—and she climbed into the seat.
“Hang on a sec and the seats will heat.” And they did. She sighed, relaxing and turning to him.
“Spill.”
“Ed Chasen is sort of a legend. He’s been in the music scene for sixty years. Few people can play blues guitar like him. He used to run a school and there was this competition. Paddy, with no formal training and no shortage of ego, talked some trash to this dude who was one of Ed’s students. And Paddy kicked his ass. I mean, it was sort of crazy. The thing about Paddy is that he has this devil-may-care thing, but he’s really, really good. A natural musician. He can play all the instruments his brothers play. He can sing. He’s got that damned star-quality thing.”
“Yes, the ladies really like that,” she said dryly, and he laughed.
“Sorry, sweetheart. He’s aware of that stuff and before you, he used it. He was a rogue but women like it as long as the guy is up front about who and what he is. But Paddy won that competition three more times. Ed, well, he got mad. Here’s this kid from a small town with no training, and he’s beating Ed’s best?”
“For Paddy, his music just flows from him. He doesn’t have to think about it. It just is. Oh, and he still uses it, only on me.”
“I really can’t have chosen anyone better for my brother. You’re really smart, you know? People-smart. You get him in ways most people never will.”
She blushed.
“So that started this thing, and Paddy never really thought about it much until the guitar. He wanted that guitar so bad, and he went to Ed and made a case to Ed but Ed told him to fuh—go away. How’d you do it?”
“At first, I tried logic. I came at him head-on, and he blew me off. Because I was a woman he was mannerly enough, but it was clear he had no interest in selling the guitar. So I started calling him a few times a week. Then I sent him Sweet Hollow Ranch CDs. He got mad at me at first. And then I drove down there and showed up at his house.”
“You did what? Christ! I told you not to go down there alone. He could have been insane or a serial killer or something. Paddy is going to kill me.”
“Hush. You didn’t tell me that until after I’d already gone down there. So technically, once you told me not to, I didn’t. But anyway. I showed up, and I followed him around pretty much all day until he finally agreed to listen to one track if I’d leave him alone. So I played him ‘Be There.’ And I said, ‘Don’t you think your guitar would make magic with this man playing it?’”
“You’re ballsy, Nats. Jeez.”
“Pfft. Why do men say that? Balls? If you kick them or bump them or they get cold or too warm, you guys go down for the count. I say I have vagina. Way tougher than balls. Though it does hurt to get kicked there.”
He sputtered and then laughed and laughed. “We need to think of another term, though. Vagina up? No. I’ll think about it and get back to you. So did he agree, then? To sell you the guitar, I mean?”
“No, but he started to consider it then. I called him still. Emailed him. And when he kept picking up the phone, I knew he was thinking of it. What finally did it? I said, ‘Have you ever been in love, Mr. Chasen?’ He said he had and had been married three times.”
“Course, he probably drove ’em all off with his crankiness.”
“One died in childbirth in the forties. Another he married about six weeks after he lost his wife, mainly to care for his newborn son. That fell apart a decade later. And then he met Suzanne. He called her Zany. They were married until she died two years ago. So I told him I loved Paddy and that he wanted that guitar because he loved music, just like Ed did, and that guitar couldn’t go to a better person. Paddy would use it and love it and make music with it. He hung up on me. Three days later he called and agreed to sell it to me.”
Ezra shook his head. “You’re one tough cookie. And for what it’s worth? Paddy will play that guitar all the time. And that you did all that for him is only going to make him love it more.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
SO OF COURSE, the Hurleys did Christmas in the same way they did everything else. In a crowd of noise, hugs, kisses and no small amount of brotherly trash talk.
Vaughan had the girls, who loved all over the puppy they’d picked out a few days before from the animal shelter. Vaughan watched them with a bittersweet smile.
“They’re growing up so fast.”
She wondered about their mother. Paddy had said his e
x-wife was a really good mother who stayed nearby so Vaughan could see them and be a regular part of their lives. Mothering like that was sort of miraculous to Natalie.
Mary leaned against Damien, laughing at something her mother had said to Sharon.
“You could totally tell me what my present is now.”
Paddy Hurley was absolutely useless when it came to patience over a surprise or a present.
“We’re going to be opening stuff in like five minutes. I bet you hunted all over the place to find presents when you were a kid.”
“Guilty as charged.” He grinned, without any remorse at all. “You didn’t?”
“I sometimes came up here to my grandparents’ for Christmas. I got lots of presents. Never let it be said that the Claytons didn’t shower me with things.” Things too big or too small, things inappropriate for the weather or just clear evidence of how little they knew her.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stirred that up.”
“Hush.” She kissed him quickly. “It’s fine. It wasn’t like this. Never. But once I got to college, things changed. I always spent Christmases with Tuesday’s family. And 1022 tries to be together before or after the holiday. Delia is Jewish so she and I often hung out on Christmas if I wasn’t visiting anyone’s family. But this? This is pretty fantastic, and I’m happy to be spending it here with you all.”
Sharon whistled and got everyone’s attention, even the puppy. “Santa’s superbusy, and he’s appointed Poppa to do his job. So let’s go on into the living room.”
Natalie loved presents. Loved the process of finding the exactly perfect thing for each person. Over the course of the year, she was on the lookout for everyone. For holidays big and small. The closet in her bedroom was full of presents she’d found here and there.
And she loved wrapping them, too. Each present under the tree from her was something she’d genuinely thought about, from the awesome veterinary kit for Vaughan’s oldest daughter, to the new gloves, three pairs, for Sharon, who lost them all the time. Mary’s present was in the form of a promise. She was having a blanket made because she was awful at such things herself. But the blanket had little sayings all over it from songs and poems and things his or her parents and family said.
And while she was long past a crappy childhood full of disappointing Christmases, she wasn’t prepared for what it felt like to be treated like one of the Hurleys.
Michael brought her a present from him and Sharon, a brooch to pin her scarves, a scarf to pin it to and a jewelry box Michael had made. There was a season pass to the theater in Portland from Damien and Mary, a coffee mug with art the girls had done; Vaughan had donated a sizable sum to the library in her name, and Ezra gave her gift certificates for a massage every month for the next year.
There’d been perfume and books—lots and lots of books—movies, cosmetics, pretty pins for her hair and then once the girls had been gifted enough to be sucked into playing with stuff, the couples gave each other gifts.
Paddy brought out a tier of boxes. She cocked her head. “What did you do, Patrick?”
“Open up and see.”
It was...hats. Lots and lots of hats. Summer hats and winter hats. Knit caps, a beret, a beautiful hat he whispered she could wear to the Kentucky Derby because that was part of the present, too. Lastly, he gave her a cowboy hat. A simple, classic, elegant cowboy hat. Gray. She’d been admiring that hat two months before in town on a person at a table across from where she and Damien had been sitting.
“How?”
“When you went to the bathroom, I went over and asked where she got the hat. No big deal.”
She hugged him. “Total big deal.”
“You missed this.” He handed her the box again, and she saw the envelope. She opened it to find an itinerary. Paris for a week. “I’d sweep you away for more, but I didn’t know how much vacation time you had.”
“Wow. You sure know how to give presents.”
He grinned. “I did okay, then?”
“More than okay.”
“Good. Gimme my present!”
Ezra groaned. “He’s been like this since we were kids.”
“Hang on. Close your eyes.”
She got up and headed into the laundry room where she’d stashed it, knowing a guitar case was pretty recognizable, even wrapped in colorful paper.
By the time she returned, everyone had turned to watch as they’d finished their gift giving. She blushed, cursing that she hadn’t done this earlier. She put it down on Paddy’s knees. “You can open up.”
He did and made a happy little sound when he saw the shape. He tore the paper like a wild man and it made her laugh.
“Love the case,” he murmured and then flipped the latches, opening it up. He gasped, as did Damien and Vaughan. Paddy pulled it out and set the case aside, examining the guitar. “Sweet baby Jesus. Is this Ed Chasen’s Gibson?”
She nodded.
“How did you even get him... Wow. Wow. Gorgeous, this is...wow.” He kept looking down at it, brushing his fingers over the curves, against the strings, over the neck. He placed it back in the case and then grabbed her in a hug. “You’re the best girlfriend in the whole world. Thank you. I’m going to take this on tour with me. I can’t wait to play it.”
He kept on and let her go, kissing her soundly right before he stepped away.
“She’s not going to tell you the story of how she convinced Ed to sell her the guitar, so I’m going to because it’s the best story ever.” Ezra winked at her and proceeded to tell the room how she’d done it.
* * *
A FEW HOURS LATER, Sharon approached, putting her arm around Natalie. “You made his entire life. Thank you for being so good to my boy.”
“Well, he’s... It’s not hard.”
Sharon laughed. “Sure it is. He’s a pain in the butt. But he’s worth it, and you see through all that outer stuff straight into the heart of who he is.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
“I should also tell you we met our goals two weeks early with the collection drive. Paddy and the rest have been so busy finishing up their record, Michael went with me to drop it all off. We made a lot of happy families at a time of major need. You were so integral to those efforts.”
Sharon hugged her.
“That’s great news! I have ideas for some things we can do next year, too. There are some food pantries in dire need, and I’ve spoken with a few of the restaurants in town about maybe doing a themed night where people can choose certain restaurants where a percentage of the receipts can go to the food banks.”
Sharon beamed. “Let’s meet after the New Year. Come over for dinner and we’ll work on some plans. I’ll invite some of the folks I’ve worked with in the past on different charity drives, too. Never hurts to have lots of ideas.”
And that made the day absolutely perfect.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A FEW DAYS after the New Year, Natalie tried on and cast aside several different outfits. “I have no idea what to wear!”
“I told you.” Tuesday pointed. “Wear those pants and that shirt with the boots. Supercute. They make your figure look fantastic. The boots are comfortable enough to stand in, and if anyone gets in your way, you can kick them in the face. It’s on trend but not trying too hard to be twenty. And then I’m doing your hair and makeup.”
She blew out a breath. “I agreed to having Paddy mention me in some interviews as the inspiration for the song. I am hedging on the picture and being interviewed myself, though. I am nervous about being pushed to the front. I’m not in the band. I’m not anything more than Paddy’s girlfriend. Why that means I’m someone people want to know about makes me superuncomfortable.”
“So why do it at all?”
“It’s good publicity. He never pushed me one way or the other, but it does help, and I want to help. I just want to be careful where it leads.”
“Fair enough.”
Tuesday looked awesome in leather pants
and a halter top covered in sequins. Natalie could not have carried it off in a million years, but it looked casual and fabulous and the bronze of the sequins brought out the bronze in Tuesday’s skin, especially from the shimmer she’d rubbed onto her shoulders. Her hair had grown, too, so it was big and sexy and full-stop fabulous.
“God, you look like a magazine ad. Good call on the lipstick.”
Tuesday and Natalie both were of the opinion that there was a shade of red for every woman, and because Tuesday’s skin tone was so gorgeous, she could wear reds from coral to deep blue-red. She wore the latter and kept the rest of her makeup light.
Natalie took a look in the mirror at her outfit. She didn’t have leather pants and would have been totally uncomfortable in them. But she did have on shiny silver trousers, formfitting, the bottom slightly tucked into the booties she had on with them. Her shirt was pale blue and dipped down in the front deep enough that she wore a camisole that was a darker blue.
Tuesday returned with a great belt to wrap around Natalie’s waist a few times and a chunky cuff bracelet in blues with a little bit of earth tones in it. Warm to the pants’ cool tones. And it worked.
She added earrings to match the cuff. “We’ll let your boobs be the decoration instead of a necklace.”
“As one does, of course.” Natalie rolled her eyes, but smiled. They weren’t hanging out, but they were there showing more than she usually did. “The perfect accessory.”
“Truer words, Nats, truer words. Now into the bathroom so I can do your face.”
First there was hair. Tuesday did something to give the top some height and slicked the sides back.
She then held still while Tuesday did her makeup with dramatic smoky eyes and liner and a red that was more neutral and sheer so it didn’t work against the eyes or the hair.
Tuesday stepped back to survey her work, nodding approvingly. “You clean up nice. He’s never seen you so gussied up. You totally look like Paddy Hurley’s girlfriend. Like a woman a hot dude writes songs about.”
They stood side by side, looking in the mirror. “We totally look fabulous. Thanks for handling my face and stuff. I’m so nervous. Thanks for coming with me.”