Cocktails & Dreams

by Autumn Markus

  Leisa piped up. “As much as I love you, Jena, you kick like a kangaroo in your sleep. I’ll take the guest room, thank you very much.” She looked at Travis with a raised eyebrow as he started to protest, and he subsided, meekly following Rob and Nicholas to the door.

  At the car, Rob directed the unpacking, grabbing a couple of bags. He paused after he shut the back door, grimacing. “Listen. I’m not a stupid man. I’m sure you’re knocking boots at home with those girls in there, as much as that makes me want to yak.” He shuddered. “Not in my house, though. Here, they’re still my little girls.” He looked at each of them steadily. “I’m an old-fashioned sort of guy. So…no ring, no ring-a-ding-ding. Have I made myself clear?” He looked at Nicholas especially hard, and Nick fought the urge to cover his fly.

  “Crystal, sir.”

  “Good.” He headed back toward the house, muttering, “Why didn’t I just have boys?”

  Sharon called from the doorway, “Jena was a gift.”

  Rob stopped to kiss her firmly on the mouth before he dropped the bags in the living room and headed for the stairs, Sharon in tow. “Yep, she was. You, however, are a trial. Goodnight, kids.”

  Nicholas dropped down on the couch, and Jena settled next to him. “Well, that was horrifying,” she declared, gulping down the rest of her drink. “Did you get the ‘no ring’ lecture?” Nicholas smiled and nodded. “I warned you. It’s a Dad standard.”

  Travis laughed. “I thought Peter was gonna cry when he got it. That’s when Rob and I bonded.” He rose to his feet and held his hand out to Leisa. “I think I might have accidentally packed my pajamas in your suitcase. Want to help me look?” He raised an eyebrow at Leisa, and they headed for the stairs.

  Nick leaned his head against Jena’s on the back of the couch. “I’m gonna miss you tonight,” he said, bringing her hand up to rest over his heart.

  Jena turned her head toward him. “Thanks for being such a good sport with my parents. They’re…” She trailed off and then shrugged with a tiny smile.

  “They love you,” Nicholas said quietly, threading his fingers through her hair and drawing her face toward his. “I can understand that,” he murmured against her lips before parting them.

  A sharp tap against his head brought Nicholas back to the present, and he slowly looked up to see Travis, already in sleep pants and a T-shirt, grin as he shook out a sleeping bag. “If you plan on brushing your teeth tonight, I’d go now. Rob says the upstairs becomes a ‘no-male zone’ in five minutes.”

  “That was five minutes ago, Travis,” Rob’s voice came from the head of the stairs, and Nicholas sat up and smoothed his shirt. “I’ll give you another five, Nick.” Rob chuckled, and Nicholas heard him walk back toward his room.

  “What about you, Dad?” Jena yelled up the stairs. “Aren’t you a male?”

  “Grandfathered in,” he shouted back. “That’s not a suggestion, by the way.”

  Travis was already stretched out on the floor with his arm across his eyes when Nick returned from hurriedly brushing his teeth and an intense kiss with Jena outside her bedroom door. He rolled out the other bag and crawled in.

  “What a freaking night,” he muttered, and Travis laughed.

  “Sharon and Rob are great, aren’t they? They never fail to crack my shit up.” He chuckled again. “This visit takes the cake, though. I can’t wait to see what Sharon comes up with for dinner. I wouldn’t put it past her to try baked possum. For us rednecks.”

  They both chuffed quiet laughter, and Travis rolled on to his side, snuggling his head into his pillow. “Can you wake up early?”

  “Maybe. Why?”

  Travis yawned. “Because once Rob starts to snore, he sleeps like the dead. Just thought you’d like to know.”

  It was a relief when, hours later, Nicholas finally heard a sound like bears attacking fresh meat. He met Leisa at the stairs, and she squeezed his hand. “Trav sleeping?” Nicholas nodded, and she smiled her little cat smile. “Goodie. I love waking him up. Some parts more than others.” She disappeared into the dark living room.

  Nick cautiously climbed the stairs, wincing as the hinges on Jena’s door squealed when he pushed it inward. He slipped into her room and shut the door quietly behind him. If nothing else, he wanted to see Jena before he went to sleep.

  A bright ray of moonlight illuminated her. Her hair was a wild stream as it twisted across her pillow, and her lips were slightly parted in a tiny smile. His breath stopped as she sighed his name, a small frown crossing her face as she rolled to her side and tucked her hands beneath her cheek.

  Nicholas was suddenly willing to brave the Wrath of Dad.

  Slipping into the bed behind her, he curled around her body, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her tightly against him. “I’m here, Jena,” he whispered in her ear, and she relaxed, twining her fingers in Nick’s with a sigh.

  Promising himself that he wouldn’t go to sleep, that he’d just hold Jena for a while, Nicholas drifted off…

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  JENA WOKE TO THE SOUND OF WHISPERS.

  “Isn’t that the sweetest thing you ever saw?” Sharon giggled. “I’m going to get the camera.”

  “Hey! Sharon!” Leisa whisper-shouted. “Do you think we should move his hand first?”

  Jena became aware of a weight curled around her body and a warm hand cupping her breast under her shirt. She snuggled into the curve of Nick’s body, careful not to shove too far back lest he fall onto the floor on his ass.

  There was a considering silence, then Sharon answered. “That might be for the best. And before Rob gets out of the bathroom and goes downstairs. He’ll be looking for Nicholas.”

  Jena waited until she heard her mom tiptoeing down the hall before she opened her eyes.

  “Fuck off, Leisa,” she mumbled as Nick pulled his hand out from under her shirt and kissed the side of her neck. “Good morning, Nicholas.”

  “Yay! You’re finally awake.” Leisa flopped on the foot of the bed and shook Jena’s foot. “At least you didn’t have to try balancing on the edge of that tiny sofa, Nick. I finally gave up and just slept on top of Trav.” She grinned. “That was fun. I knew when he was gonna wake up before he did. It tickled me.”

  “Tickled you?” Travis’s voice from the doorway was outraged. “I think speared is the word you’re looking for, sugar.” He laughed and lay next to Leisa, pushing Jena’s legs off the side of the bed.

  “Holy God,” Jena moaned, covering her ears. “I know more about you two than I ever wanted to.”

  “Well, he’s sort of right, Jena,” Leisa said thoughtfully. “I mean, you’ve seen the peen—”

  “Leisa!” Jena kicked out at her friend’s head and covered her own head with a pillow.

  “What? I thought ‘peepee’ was the word you didn’t like!”

  “I don’t even think I want to know what that’s all about.” Rob’s voice was amused.

  “You don’t,” they all said together, looking at each other before dissolving into laughter.

  “Geez, I was under the impression that I was supposed to be dealing with young professionals here, not a pack of kids. I like this better.” Rob grinned and slapped the door. “So, you gonna come downstairs sometime this month, Jen? Sharon already tried to stuff a chicken inside the turkey. Claims ‘turducken’ is a southern tradition. She couldn’t find a duck, so she says you’ll have to settle for a ‘turken.’” He rolled his eyes. “I need help. Lots and lots of help. And lots of beer.”

  Leisa leapt off the bed, wrapping her hands around Rob’s arm and steering him toward the door as Trav followed in her wake. “Then it’s a good thing Mama told me to bring a gift. I’m pretty sure there’s a case of Grolsch under the back seat of Jena’s Jeep.” She looked back and winked. “I might have stashed it there a couple of days ago.”

  The sudden silence when the others left the room was wonderful. Jena turned toward Nicholas and put her head against his chest, listening to his h
eart. “I missed falling asleep to that,” she said quietly, and he nodded.

  “I missed it, too. I even braved your father to come in here last night.”

  “Not much risk once the snoring started.” She kissed the tiny scar on Nick’s chin. “They like you, or you would have never gotten away with it. I heard Dad go downstairs hours ago. When he didn’t come back with a shotgun, that sealed it.”

  “Jena,” Rob roared up the stairs, “will you please tell your mother that the little bag inside the turkey is not stuffing?”

  After losing a brief tussle at the bathroom door, Jena stepped in the kitchen to find Sharon standing in the middle of the room with a potato in one hand, a paring knife in the other, and a calculating look on her face.

  “I’ll bet I can rig something up to make this process faster,” she muttered.

  Jena plucked the items from her mother’s hands “It’s called a vegetable peeler, Mom.” She opened the second drawer and dug around for a minute before tossing Sharon an ancient peeler and pointing her toward the sack of potatoes. “You try that and I’ll handle these.”

  Sharon raised her eyebrows and chuckled, sitting down on a kitchen stool. “Good morning and happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

  Jena kissed her mother’s forehead before snagging another stool, setting the garbage can between them, and returning her greeting.

  “Sleep well?” Sharon asked nonchalantly, smiling as Jena flushed.

  “Shut up,” Jena muttered.

  Sharon belly laughed and started on her potato. They peeled in companionable silence, tossing the finished potatoes in a bowl on the counter. “So, how long have you and Nicholas been living together?” Sharon finally asked with an air of practicality, shaking her head at Jena’s guilty face. “I may be silly, but I’m not stupid, Jena. There’s a certain…comfortableness that comes with familiarity, and you’ve got it, my girl.”

  Jena grimaced. “Sorry. I wanted to tell you in person. Does Dad know? Is he mad?”

  “Nicholas’s still alive, right? Dad’s not dumb either. He knows there’s no putting the horse back in the barn once it’s out,” she finished philosophically.

  Jena smiled at her mother’s mixed metaphor. “Whatever. As long as Dad isn’t going to kill Nicholas, I’m good. How many are we expecting today?”

  “Keep peeling.”

  Jena grumbled and grabbed another potato. After a minute, Sharon began again. “What do Nick’s parents think of the move, sweetie? I only ask because he’s here, not there.”

  “I wouldn’t have any idea, Mom,” Jena said quietly, pausing and looking at the dots on her pajama pants. “Nicholas doesn’t talk to them much.” She felt tears behind her eyes and willed them back. “They don’t like me for some reason.”

  Sharon was quiet for a minute, and Jena heard another potato plop in the bowl. “I wouldn’t say that, Jena…” Her voice was considering. “Laura was a dear when I talked to her, and I just think—”

  “You called her?” Jena screeched, dropping her potato on the floor.

  “Of course I did. I needed to know what to make for Nicholas, didn’t I? If I’m going to cook turken for Leisa and cow balls for Travis, Nick certainly deserves a dish of his own.” She glanced up and giggled at Jena’s open mouth. “For heaven’s sake, Jena, the Internet is your friend. My friend, anyway, since you wouldn’t give me her number.”

  “Nicholas thought—”

  Sharon looked serious. “Nicholas needs to talk to his parents and stop ‘thinking,’ Twinkie. Laura didn’t go into detail, but apparently there’s some kind of major misunderstanding going on between him and his folks.” She hesitated, her normal exuberance dimmed in a very un-Sharon like way. “Jena, this is none of my business, but can I give you some advice?”

  Jena nodded.

  “Do whatever it takes to get them talking. You’ll never forgive yourself if you think you’ve put a wedge in his family.”

  Jena nodded again, taking a minute to think as her mom resumed her energetic peeling. When Sharon’s potato was approximately the size of a large pearl onion, she held up the skinned potato, studied it, and tossed it toward the counter.

  “Wouldn’t it be faster to just throw the marshmallows in with these while they’re boiling?”

  Jena sighed and tossed her own potato toward the counter. “Marshmallows go with the sweet potatoes, Mom, and no, you can’t add them to the water. They’re baked on top.”

  Sharon shrugged. “If you want to do it that way. Can we put brown sugar in these?”

  “Not if you want anyone to eat them.”

  “Chili powder?”

  “Fine.” Crossing to the sink, Jena filled a pan with water to boil the potatoes and then started cutting up the first one.

  “Are you and Nick using raincoats, or are you on the pill?”

  The paring knife slipped, and Jena dropped the potato in the sink. “Crap, Mom! You can’t just ask stuff like that.” She turned her hand to inspect the injury and nearly jabbing her thigh with the knife in her other hand.

  Sharon bustled over, grabbing Jena’s hand and quickly wiping her finger with a towel before dropping the paring knife in the waiting basin of hot, soapy water. “Be careful with dangerous things pointed at your lady parts, no matter how big they are.” She laughed. “Of course, that brings us back to my original question.”

  Travis saved Jena from answering by peeping in the doorway. “Shower’s free.” He grinned when Jena tried to brush past him. “Do you need a raincoat?” He howled as Jena started slapping at his shoulder and chest. “If Sharon only knew…” Hugging Jena tightly, he whispered in her ear, “I told you this weekend would be epic.” Kissing her on the forehead, he took Jena’s place on the stool, grabbing a potato and a fresh knife and shaking his head at Sharon’s rapid-fire questions.

  Joining the others in the living room after her shower, Jena handed her brush to Leisa and listened with a smile as she chattered and her fingers flew, twisting Jena’s hair into a braid. When she was finished, Leisa leapt on Travis, hugging his chest.

  “Phone call time!” she sang out. “Go get the cells, Travy. Please?”

  Travis heaved himself out of the recliner and headed for the door, pinching Jena’s arm as he walked past. “What did you get me into, Jen?” he muttered, and Leisa laughed.

  “Just the best sex of your life, sweet pea,” she shouted at his retreating back.

  “Good Lord, Leisa,” Rob wailed mournfully from the kitchen.

  Leisa giggled. “Sorry.”

  Travis returned with the phones and passed them out. He and Leisa stepped to opposite corners of the room, eagerly dialing their phones. Nicholas stood in the middle of the room, tossing his thoughtfully from hand to hand. Jena walked over to him and rubbed his back, warm through the sueded softness of the chamois shirt he wore.

  “Call your mom, Nicholas. You don’t have to have a deep conversation. Just tell her happy Thanksgiving. Tell her you miss her. And you love her.”

  Nick looked at Jena for a minute and then sighed like a man lifting a heavy burden. “All right. But you owe me.”

  His smile was strained as he dialed. She watched as his face went from happy, when his mother answered, to troubled as a deeper voice came from the phone. Nicholas’s voice got lower, and he retreated toward the hall, grimacing and speaking rapidly.

  “Crap,” Jena murmured, heading for the kitchen to begin setting items on the table. It was groaning with food when Leisa and Travis walked in, laughing over their respective conversations with their families. Nicholas followed them with a serious face, tossing his phone to Jena.

  “You keep that. It’s off for the rest of the weekend.” He smiled tightly, rolling his head on his neck, grabbing a bottle of wine, and beginning to pour.

  The doorbell rang, halting Jena in her tracks as she headed toward Nicholas.

  “Get that, Travis,” Rob ordered, beginning to carve the turken and snickering as Sharon bewailed its ugliness. “Jen, g
et another platter, would you?”

  Looking at Nick hesitantly, Jena obeyed, returning to a dining room that was in organized chaos. She quickly introduced Nicholas to her parents’ guests, and they dug in to all the traditional Thanksgiving foods, with a few extras. Leisa giggled over Sharon’s idea of southern food, which to her hostess meant deep frying everything she could get her hands on, including pats of butter; Travis grinned as the guests politely avoided the Rocky Mountain oysters, though they had benefited from the same deep-fry treatment.

  Nicholas was flabbergasted when Sharon opened a steaming casserole dish filled with baked beans under his nose. She smiled. “Your mom says happy Thanksgiving and she loves you. She sent me her recipe.” Setting the dish on the table, she ran her hand gently over his hair before settling it on his shoulder. “I wanted you to feel at home. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Nicholas looked up at her with happy eyes. “Thanks.”

  “Seriously, man?” Travis snorted. “Beans for Thanksgiving?”

  Nicholas grinned. “I grew up in Thanksgiving Central. We gave you all this.” He studied a suspicious lump on Travis’s plate. “Except that. What is that, Sharon?”

  “Deep-fried peaches,” she answered nonchalantly, serving herself a huge helping of potatoes and gravy. “They’re from the south, aren’t they, Leisa?”

  A general laugh went around as Leisa tried to find a way to deny any tie to Sharon’s choice of southern food without hurting her feelings.

  After dinner, the party moved to the living room, where they watched a football game before Rob set up his beloved Trivial Pursuit game—the newest edition—and split the party into teams. Jena and Nick sat with hands loosely linked, the way they stayed throughout the game, ignoring the teasing from all quarters.