Christmas Steele

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  “What’s the matter, Lacy?” her grandfather asked, keeping his arm around her shoulders as he led her from the house. “Don’t tell me the situation with Frannie is bothering you this much.”

  Lacy sighed, not wanting to unload all her problems on him. “I guess Christmas can work to make me sort of blue sometimes,” she said, though this was the first time it had ever happened to her. Previously Christmas was a blessed event, something she looked forward to all year long. Maybe now that she was dreading it, she was an official grownup.

  “Christmas can be hard when you’re feeling down,” he said.

  She bit her lip, feeling bad for feeling sorry for herself when he had spent so many Christmases alone. “What did you do all those years without us?” she asked.

  “For a lot of years, I spent Christmas with my sister and her brood. Believe me when I tell you that being around a lot of wild, misbehaved children can make one thankful for bachelorhood. The last few years, Peg and I spent the day together.”

  “Do you miss her?” Lacy asked, feeling torn. She wanted to honor his friendship with Peggy, but the woman had killed her biological grandmother. By all accounts her grandmother hadn’t been a saint, but still, there was such a thing as loyalty.

  “Yes and no,” Mr. Middleton said. “We were good friends, but there’s a difference in what Peggy and I shared and what your grandmother and I share. One pales in comparison. I’ll let you figure out which one.” He smiled, not taking his eyes off the road.

  Lacy faced forward with a smile of her own. “Are you going to visit Peggy in jail?”

  He nodded. “I visit her every week. Peg was a good friend to me most of my life, and I can’t discount that because she did one horrible thing. I’m disappointed in her for her choices, but I still care about her. Plus, she has no one else.”

  Lacy bit her lip, her smile fading. How sad to be alone. As much as her family was driving her crazy, she still had them, and they were there. And as much as Tosh and Jason were too busy to spend much time with her, they were still her friends. Peggy had no one. “I don’t want to be alone,” she blurted.

  “You won’t be,” Mr. Middleton said confidently.

  “But I’m reserved with my emotions, except anger,” she added truthfully, thinking that Jason and Tosh would both say the same thing if they were here. For some reason, showing her temper came much easier to her than showing affection or anything else.

  Mr. Middleton chuckled. “I was a bit of a hothead myself when I was younger, and so was Barbara. But age brings wisdom, at least for some of us. You’ll learn how to control that temper.”

  “But will I ever learn to open up and tell people how I really feel?” she asked.

  He opened his mouth and paused. “I guess that’s up to you,” he said at last. “I’m learning, but I’m an old codger, and it’s taken way too long. I hope you’ll learn long before I did. When I think of all these wasted years I could have been with Lucy if only I had said something sooner.” He frowned, shaking his head. “Well, I don’t want that for you. If you love someone, you should tell him.” He paused again. “Do you love someone?” he quirked an eyebrow at her.

  She laughed. “Are you matchmaking?”

  He shook his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I just want to know who I need to be watching out for. Jason, for instance, or Lucy’s pastor. Which of those do I need to worry about?”

  “Neither right now,” Lacy said, sighing. “They’re both so busy I’ve hardly seen them lately. Who knew cops and pastors were busiest at Christmas? You’d think people would take a break from being needy once in a while.”

  He laughed and she could see the tension draining from him. “You’re going to want to curb that uncharitable attitude if you plan to be a pastor’s wife or a cop’s wife, Lacy. It probably wouldn’t go over well in either case.”

  She smiled, thinking how remote the chance was that she would marry either Jason or Tosh. “I think I’m safe for the time being,” she said. “I can resent their jobs as much as I want, especially while they’re both being taken away from me.”

  He took her to the coffee shop and they grabbed their usual table, talking about anything and everything but the tension waiting for them back home. Lacy’s attention was grabbed by a pretty blond sitting a few tables over, the same pretty blond who had been Jason’s date to the FOP banquet. Lacy tried to concentrate on what her grandfather was saying, but her attention was repeatedly snagged by the other woman.

  She was very pretty and sophisticated, and she was studious as she worked over the papers spread before her. Who was she? Lacy was certain she didn’t live in town because she had never seen her before. But what was she doing here if she wasn’t here for Jason?

  Then the bell over the door chimed, admitting another customer, and Lacy had her answer. Jason, still in his uniform, zeroed in on the blond and walked straight to her, saying something that made her lookup with a smile and a laugh. He was smiling, too, as he took his seat across from her. Then he looked up and saw Lacy staring at him. He winked before returning his attention to the blond. And after that initial greeting wink, he didn’t look up again.

  Chapter 7

  “What’s wrong with you? You’re quiet.”

  Lacy and Tosh sat on his sofa, eating takeout and not talking, at least until Tosh spoke, alerting her to the fact that she was in her own little world.

  “Oh, you know--drama and Christmas. Apparently they go hand in hand.”

  Tosh nodded, then changed to a head shake mid-nod. “No, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why would drama and Christmas go hand in hand?”

  “I guess they only do if you live in my family,” she said. “If you ever met my sister, you would know what I’m talking about. Every year it was something. When she was little it was a huge buildup as she regaled us daily with her list of Christmas demands. Then there was the disappointment because she hadn’t received what she wanted. When she was older, she was always fighting with a friend or boyfriend, or she was mad at me because she thought I had received better presents.”

  “Maybe you’re not just angry at Riley because she stole Robert. Maybe you’re angry at her for a lot of different reasons,” Tosh said.

  If she didn’t know that Tosh had good intentions, then it would annoy her when he assumed his “pastor” voice with her. As it was, she knew he sincerely cared about her and her problems, and that made her think twice about what he said. “Maybe. I don’t like to think of myself as one of those people always whining about my childhood, especially when my childhood was so good. But I did get tired of Riley’s constant drama and need to be the center of attention.”

  “Everyone has baggage,” Tosh said, shrugging. “Just because your childhood was good doesn’t mean it was perfect.”

  “I suppose,” she said, ready to change the subject. “Speaking of family, are you going to Chicago for Christmas?”

  “Yes, but not until the day after. I have too much going on here.” He sighed, sounding exhausted.

  “Poor Tosh,” Lacy said.

  He smiled. “I can’t really complain about my job. Who complains because he has to go to too many Christmas parties?”

  “You’re tired,” she defended. “It’s okay to say you’re tired.”

  “I’m tired,” he admitted, reaching out to steal some of her sweet and sour chicken. She used the opportunity to steal some of his beef and broccoli, and they decided to exchange containers for a while.

  “I’m tired of not seeing you,” she said. “I miss you. You can’t believe how lonely this town is when you’re not around. That reminds me—can you come to our holiday party on Christmas Eve?”

  “I have to give the Christmas Eve service at church, but that’s not until late. I think I can make it to the party for a while first.” They ate in silence for a while, and his happy smile slowly slid away. “Is he going to be there?”

  There was no need to ask who “he” was. Jason and Tosh had a certain tell
ing tone when they referred to each other.

  “If he can sneak by during work,” Lacy said. “He’s working as much overtime as you are.”

  Tosh nodded, wisely letting the subject drop. “I procured some extra fortune cookies for you,” he said, pointing to the pile of cookies on the coffee table.

  “Just one of the many reasons I love you,” Lacy said. She had no idea why it was so easy to be with Tosh, to tell him how much he meant to her, and to pour out her heart to him. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t talk to him about, unless it was the possibility of them being more than friends. She was still uncomfortable with that subject. “Tosh, did you buy me a gold locket for Christmas, send it to my house, and tell me not to open it until Christmas?”

  “No. Do you want me to?”

  She shook her head. “Someone already did.”

  “Oh.” His chopsticks scraped roughly against the side of his container. “Think it was him?”

  “I don’t think so,” Lacy said, not sure if she believed it or not. Unlike Tosh, she couldn’t ask Jason directly. If he hadn’t sent it, she would be embarrassed that she had thought so in the first place. Their relationship was tricky and strange. Most of the time she had no idea where she stood with him or why, for instance, he would kiss her one night and be with another woman the following night. Her mind strayed to the pretty blond at the coffee shop. Jason insisted he didn’t have a girlfriend, but that was twice Lacy had seen him with the mystery woman.

  “I’ve lost you again,” Tosh said.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’m feeling a little blue, I guess.”

  “Me too. Don’t tell anyone I said so, but this season is wearing me out. Where does the shepherd go when his sheep are exhausting him?”

  “To his friends,” Lacy said. Setting aside their containers of food, she moved close and hugged Tosh. He rested his head on hers and gave her a squeeze. “I know something else that will make you feel better, Tosh. It’s in my bag.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Tosh said, sounding pained.

  Lacy nodded. “You know what it’s time for. Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

  “I’m not pretending,” he said.

  She broke free of his grasp and retrieved her bag from beside the couch. “C’mon, Tosh, I heard you singing along a couple of weeks ago.”

  “That’s because those songs worm their way into your head like a virus. I can’t not sing them. Even when I’m preaching a sermon, they pop into my head and it’s all I can do not to start tap dancing across the platform.”

  “Maybe you should,” she suggested, fishing out her copy of White Christmas and holding it aloft. Tosh groaned.

  “How many times are you going to make me watch this?”

  “As many times as it takes,” Lacy replied. She left the couch to put the movie in the player.

  “As many times as it takes until what?”

  “Until we’re both filled with the Christmas spirit,” Lacy replied.

  “You can’t get Christmas spirit from a movie. Christmas spirit comes from the joy of…”

  Lacy pressed her fingers to his lips. “Save the sermon, Reverend Underhill. You know what I mean; it’s impossible to watch this movie and not be cheered. Let’s just watch and enjoy the mental break.”

  “Okay,” Tosh agreed, settling back against the couch so that his head rested on the bolster. He began humming along as soon as the music started, and Lacy smiled, immersing herself in one of her favorite movies.

  The movie ended and Lacy felt the way she always felt when she watched it—warm and nostalgic. She felt like going home and staring at the Christmas tree, and then she remembered they hadn’t put up the tree yet. It was in storage, and Lacy had been meaning to ask Tosh to retrieve it so she wouldn’t have to crawl into the spider-filled attic, but he had been so busy, he hadn’t had the time. Now she turned to him, prepared to ask, but he was asleep.

  Lacy shook her head, still smiling as she stood and retrieved a blanket from his room. What is it about me that puts men to sleep? After tucking the blanket around Tosh and swiping his hair out of his eyes, she bestowed a kiss on his forehead and let herself out of his house, jogging home in the dark for the second night in a row.

  When she arrived home, she paused in the living room, staring at the barren corner where the Christmas tree should be. Maybe the lack of a tree was the cause of her missing Christmas spirit.

  We’ll put it up tomorrow, she promised herself, Tosh or no Tosh, tomorrow is tree day. Bypassing the tree-less living room, she went to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed, admiring the gold locket on her nightstand. She picked up the box and brought it closer, taking in the details of the intricate filigree. Tosh hadn’t sent it; that was one person marked off her list of three possible candidates. Ruling out her grandfather should be her next option, but she wasn’t sure how to ask him. In the midst of so much emotional turmoil with her mother, focusing on whether or not he sent her a locket seemed self-centered in the extreme. But she was dying to know where it came from.

  Face it—you’re just dying to know if it came from Jason.

  Shaking her head at her traitorous inner monologue, she set the box on the bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling instead of falling asleep. What were Robert and Riley doing now? No doubt they were at some fabulous event in the Hamptons. Had Riley gone into debt to buy a Hampton-worthy wardrobe? Or had she begged and borrowed from friends until she assembled something appropriate? Like their biological grandmother, Riley had always possessed the ability to make people give her things.

  Lacy scowled at the ceiling, once again trying to push away her unhealthy thoughts. Maybe Tosh was right; maybe her anger at Riley had less to do with Robert and more to do with old scars from her childhood. How often had her mother made Lacy give up whatever Riley wanted, just to keep the peace? More times than she could remember. And her grandmother had always been a source of solace during those times, often secretly buying Lacy a replacement toy and allowing her to keep it hidden at her house so she didn’t have to give it to Riley.

  As if to heap guilt on top of her already miserable head, Lacy began to remember the good times with her sister. True, she was occasionally selfish and demanding. But she had also been fun. They had laughed and giggled their way through every Christmas, inevitably winding up in trouble for staying up too late. Riley had talked Lacy into some crazy stunts, like the time they tried to climb onto the roof to wait for Santa. Thankfully, their father had caught them when they were only halfway up the ladder and before they made it onto the icy roof.

  I miss you, Riley, she thought, swiping impatiently at her tears and wondering if her sister missed her in return. Was she happy with Robert? Did she feel even an iota of guilt for what she had done? Or did she feel justified in taking Robert, as their mother had justified the action by pointing out that Robert and Riley were a better match.

  Those words had a struck a blow, even if her mother hadn’t intended them to. Handsome and charming, Lacy had always secretly felt that Robert was out of her league. She who was quiet and reserved, who enjoyed staying in to read a book on a Saturday night as much as he had enjoyed going out. When they were together, he had lovingly said it was their differences that made them work. She had kept him steady, and he had kept her fun. He hadn’t exactly said it in those terms—his words had been much smoother and more honeyed—but the gist had been the same. Lacy had credited herself for having so much substance that she had attracted someone everyone else wanted. Robert had bypassed all the pretty and fluffy blonds, zeroing in on her from her very first day at their firm. And then her own sister had been his downfall. How humiliating.

  All her old insecurities rushed up to meet her. With her red hair and hourglass figure, she was a throwback to a different time. Men today wanted tall, stick-thin blonds, didn’t they? She was too quiet and reserved with her emotions. She had never been a game player, never mastered the art of flirting or dating. Basically, she was all wrong
.

  She rolled to her side, feeling very sorry for herself, when her eyes landed on the locket propped on her bedside. Someone, somewhere loves me, she thought. Feeling oddly comforted by the thought of her secret admirer, she finally fell asleep.

  Chapter 8

  Due to Lacy’s pity-induced insomnia, she slept late the following morning. Two notes were waiting for her on the kitchen table. One was from her parents, informing her they were spending the day with some high school friends. The other was from her grandmother, telling her that she and her grandfather were spending the day Christmas shopping.

  “Alone again, naturally,” Lacy said, her self-pity quickly rising to the surface once again. With effort, she tamped it back down. She would not wallow today; she would not spend the day on the couch, wearing her pajamas, eating prune cake and Christmas cookies. “The tree,” she said out loud. If she forced herself to go up in the attic and drag it down, then maybe the family could decorate it together once everyone arrived home. Maybe it would be a bonding experience for her mother and her grandfather. And maybe magical elves might spring from the fireplace and fill the stockings. No, she wouldn’t hope for the impossible; she would simply concentrate on the practical. Bringing the Christmas tree from the attic was definitely practical.

  She shuddered as she ate her cereal and stared at the attic opening. She had been afraid of her grandmother’s attic ever since she was a little girl. Her grandfather had always been the one to go up and retrieve anything that was needed. Lacy had stood at the bottom of the ladder, inhaling the scent of moth balls and mildew, shivering from the cool blast of air that always accompanied a winter trek to the storage space. Far from being curious about what might be up there, she had instead always harbored a secret phobia that she would somehow get locked inside. Since a ladder was needed to climb inside, the fear wasn’t reasonable, but then little girl fears never were.