The Naughty List

by Caisey Quinn

  “I can handle it, Hollis. I’ll behave.” He lowers his hood and places his hand on the small of my back. I don’t know why, but the gesture makes me feel better about bringing him here.

  When I open the door, the lights are off but the television is on. Gramps is in the recliner Mom bought him last year at Christmas watching a game show I don’t recognize.

  I knock gently on the door as we enter. He doesn’t acknowledge me. This isn’t unusual.

  I set the shaving kit on his bedside table and see the tray containing his untouched vegetable beef soup, a roll, and a small bowl of cantaloupe covered in plastic wrap.

  “Gramps, your soup is going to get cold,” I say softly.

  Nothing.

  I move to the window beside him so I’m in his line of sight without blocking the television. “Aren’t you hungry? It smells good. Looks like vegetable beef. Your favorite.”

  His watery eyes move slowly to where I’m sitting but there’s no sign of recognition in them. I force a smile. He returns his attention to the television.

  When I was a kid, I thought this man was ten feet tall. He carried bubble gum in his pockets to sneak me and my brothers when our parents weren’t looking. He used to call me squirt and tell me I was his favorite granddaughter. I’m his only granddaughter, but I didn’t realize that until I was ten or so.

  Every visit it feels like that version of him, of who he used to be, is slipping further and further away.

  My heart aches as I continue to comment on everything from the weather to the show he’s watching without the slightest response from him.

  I’m about to give up and tell Jonah we can go. When Gramps doesn’t recognize me, I don’t break out the razor for fear he might flip out mid-shave.

  “This soup is making me hungry,” Jonah comments suddenly. “Think I might see if I can sweet talk one of these nurses into bringing me a bowl.”

  My grandpa snorts. “Good luck.” He turns and looks at Jonah. “Hey, do I know you?”

  Jonah shrugs. “I don’t know, Mr. Leery. Do I look familiar?”

  Gramps stares long and hard at him. “You’re that fighter. The one from TV with the lightning fast reflexes and the strong left.”

  My mouth drops open. I don’t bother to hide my surprise. He doesn’t recognize me but he recognizes Jonah who hasn’t fought in years?

  Jonah grins. “Well, thank you, sir. I thought you were going to say the one who walked away at the peak of his career like everyone else does.”

  Gramps grunts. “Everything has to end sometime, boy.” Before Jonah can respond, my grandpa continues. “I did a little boxing during my time in the Army.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jonah leans forward. “Were you any good?”

  Gramps makes a face and it’s the closest thing I’ve seen to a smile in months. “Hell yeah I was good. Would’ve kept at it when I came home, but had a little one on the way. Needed steadier income.” He jerks his chin toward me. “She was worth it.”

  He thinks I’m my mom.

  “She’s a great girl,” Jonah agrees. “You did a wonderful job raising her.”

  His words sound so genuine I feel them in my chest.

  Gramps grunts again. “Mostly her mother’s doin’. I worked eighty hours a week in a factory most her life.”

  Jonah nods. “Providing is still part of raising.” He gestures to the food on the tray. “You gonna eat this or waste away in that chair all day?”

  I brace for Gramps to throw us out, but he lifts his arm and waves it toward himself. “Bring it over here then.”

  Jonah wheels the tray over and I watch as he unwraps the fruit and uncovers the soup.

  “You like cantaloupe?”

  Gramps makes a sour face. “No one likes cantaloupe. It’s garbage fruit.”

  Jonah chuckles. “It’s not so bad if you sprinkle a little salt on it.”

  “They don’t believe in salt in this godforsaken place.”

  “They just know it’s not great for you, Pop,” I say softly. “They take good care of you here, yeah?”

  He grumbles something under his breath I can’t make out.

  “Be nice,” Jonah says barely containing a grin. Clearly he caught the comment I missed.

  When my grandpa can’t seem to get the spoon to his mouth with the soup actually still on it, Jonah reaches over casually and steadies his hand. He doesn’t feed him like an invalid, just offers some assistance.

  I want to tackle hug him. Or kiss him. Possibly both.

  When Gramps pushes the tray away after taking a few bites of soup and polishing off half the roll, Jonah hands me the shaving kit.

  Opening it, I show the contents to my grandpa. “Feel like a shave today?”

  He frowns but nods. “Make it quick, Lydia. It’s nearly time for my nap.”

  “Jonah, can you turn the overhead light on and bring me a wet washrag? There should be some in his bathroom.”

  “I think I can handle that.” He flips the light switch before wetting a washcloth and bringing it to me.

  I do my best to lather the cream and give my grandpa a close, even shave without nicking him. It goes fairly well until he starts to nod off.

  Reaching what I can with his chin drooping downward into his chest, concealing his neck, I finish up and put some lotion on his sagging jowls. When he begins to snore, I stand and place the robe on his bed. I wrote his name on the inside in black permanent marker because the laundry service here tends to hand items out to the wrong residents if they aren’t clearly labeled.

  The green and red plaid Christmas blanket I brought last week is on his bed so I pull it off and cover him with it.

  Jonah stands, glancing at the pictures all around the room. Most of them are of me and my brothers from our childhood to the present.

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah. He’ll be out for a while.” Leaning over, I kiss Gramps on the forehead. “I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck,” I whisper.

  Our thing. Another thing I miss hearing from him.

  After we say goodbye to Wanda, we make our way to the parking lot.

  Jonah turns to me once we reach his Rover. “So Lydia is…”

  “My mom,” I tell him. “I look a lot like she did at my age. He gets us confused. That was one of the ways we realized he was sick. He started calling me by her name and only her name. Then he got lost going to a grocery store he’d been going to since I was a kid.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jonah says evenly. “I imagine that’s tough on all of you.”

  “It’s worse on my brothers. He doesn’t have any sons so he doesn’t have anyone he can connect them with. When they visit, he thinks they’re doctors or therapists here to hassle him. He isn’t very friendly toward either of them unless Mikey is in uniform.”

  “Seemed friendly enough to me.”

  I smile as he opens my door for me. “He recognized you. He must’ve been a fan. I never knew he even watched any UFC fights. He’s never really talked about his time in the military before either.”

  Once we’re both inside the vehicle, he hesitates but I can tell he wants to say something.

  “What?” I wait impatiently for him to find the words.

  He stares out the windshield for a long moment before speaking. “It’s really nice that you visit him, Hollis. That you do it even though he doesn’t know who you are. Most people wouldn’t keep trying so hard.”

  I don’t think of it as trying hard. It’s just what I do because I love him and he’s my family. Before I can respond, Jonah’s phone makes a dinging sound. He glances at the screen.

  “Your car is ready.”

  “Seriously? That was quick.”

  He nods. “My mechanic friend just texted me. It was the alternator but they had a rebuilt one on hand to replace it.”

  “Did they say how much?” I have money in my account but I haven’t bought any of my family members Christmas presents yet.

  “I have an account ther
e. They put it on my tab,” Jonah says without looking at me.

  “I’ll pay you back, Jonah. Just let me know what I owe you.”

  He turns on the radio. “Don’t make me listen to anymore Christmas music on the way back and we’ll call it even.”

  Once we’re back in town at the garage where my car is, Jonah makes sure it starts before going inside to talk to his friend.

  While he’s in there, I text my mom a quick update on Gramps.

  A few minutes later, Jonah returns and leans down into my window. He hands me a folded piece of paper I expect to be the bill from the mechanic.

  It isn’t.

  It’s a flyer of some sort. With a picture of Santa on it.

  “What’s this?”

  “You’re first official personal assistant assignment. Bring cookies. Dress like an elf.”

  “Um, okay.” I actually have an elf costume from the Tavern’s Christmas party last year. I knew that sucker would come in handy again one day.

  Carefully, I read the words printed in black ink. A group home for children not far from here is getting a visit from Santa tomorrow night.

  “Join us for milk and cookies with Santa, ” I read aloud before glancing up at him. “It’s says six P.M. Do the elves need to arrive early?”

  Jonah retrieves his car keys from his pocket. “Up to you. Just don’t be late.”

  He’s halfway back to his vehicle when I step out of mine.

  “Jonah,” I call out.

  He turns and waits. Probably wondering if my car is having issues again. It isn’t.

  “Thanks. For going with me today. And for getting my car fixed. You can take it out of my Christmas bonus.”

  His lips press together in that sexy smirk of his. “Who says you’re getting a bonus this year?”

  I roll my eyes. He gives me a bonus every year. “Then take it out of my paycheck.”

  “Get home safe, Rossi. See you tomorrow night.”

  9

  JONAH

  SANTA, BABY

  “So you’re Santa, huh?” Hollis greets me the following night in the parking lot behind the Boston Boys and Girls Community Home where I grew up.

  I always arrive an hour early to help serve dinner but I didn’t expect her to be here so soon. She pulled up just as I was putting the finishing touches on my costume before going inside.

  “I am,” I admit. “Help me with this beard.”

  She comes closer, wrapping the elastic band over my ears and straightening the white curls on my face. When she steps back, I get a good look at her outfit. Or her lack thereof.

  “Christ, Hollis. Aren’t you freezing? You’re going to cause some of these boys to hit puberty in that.”

  Her green dress is short and cut low in the front. The red vest does little to cover her full cleavage. Both the dress and the hat have a matching red fur ring around them. Reminds me of the tree skirt around the office Christmas tree.

  Except the Christmas tree skirt doesn’t make my dick hard.

  She has on striped knee socks and somehow manages to make elf shoes appear sexy.

  “You’re the main attraction, Santa. They’ll barely notice me.”

  “A blind man would notice you,” I grumble.

  “Look, we match,” she says, pointing to her wide black leather belt.

  I’m actually trying not to look.

  “Great. I have to smuggle these presents into the back. Do you need help carrying anything?”

  “I think I got it.” She bends down to get a large paper sack out of her backseat. I should look away instead of admiring the view, but fuck me. All that walking the dogs has done Hollis good. The muscles in the back of her thighs flex and I’m hit with the image of her in that damn lingerie again.

  “You got the cookies?” My voice is gruffer than I mean for it to be, but I’m struggling here.

  Hollis makes a sound like pfft. “I did better than cookies, Jonah. I have gingerbread men and icing and sugar cookie candy canes and sprinkles so the kids can decorate their own.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Hollis has always been my favorite overachiever.

  Tonight is no different.

  After dinner is served, I watch as she makes her way around the tables, passing out hot chocolate, cookies, and what looks like plastic sandwich bags full of icing. She gives the kids a tutorial on how to pipe the icing onto the cookies then hands out sprinkles and various toppings.

  When I saw her with her grandfather, I knew she’d be able to handle the kids here. She’s patient and thoughtful and has the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.

  She’s also thicker skinned than I realized and doesn’t get her feelings hurt too easily. The kids here have had it rough so sometimes they lash out.

  I should know. I used to be one of the worst ones, if not the worst.

  After I sit with the younger children and hand out presents, I overhear a group of the older boys attempting to propose to Hollis. She handles it gracefully, letting them down without hurting their feelings. I hear her tell one boy she’ll be an old maid soon and he needs someone much younger.

  She’s the furtherest thing from an old maid.

  I was a lot like them at that age. False bravado making me seem cocky and overly confident when really I was a fucking mess.

  Still am most of the time.

  “Jonah, your girlfriend is simply wonderful,” Miss Nancy, the director of the group home tells me while we clean up. “Please tell me she’s coming to the New Year’s Eve pajama party.”

  “Uh, she’s not—”

  “I’m his assistant,” Hollis breaks in. “And of course. I’d love to.”

  Hollis throws me a tight smile.

  “Wonderful!” Miss Nancy claps her hands. “You both brought so much joy to our kiddos tonight. I can’t thank you enough.” She hugs us one at a time then does exactly what I’d hoped she wouldn’t. “Wasn’t long ago Jonah was here, ignoring Santa and his elves, refusing to smile for pictures.” She beams at Hollis. “Though if the elves had looked like you back then, he probably would’ve been more cooperative.”

  Hollis’s face becomes a mask of confusion as she looks back and forth between the two of us.

  The silence grows thick with tension. Miss Nancy frowns as the realization sets in. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry, Jonah. I didn’t realize—”

  “It’s okay. She was going to find out eventually anyway.”

  I knew that when I brought her here. I wanted her to know what she was dealing with.

  “Well now that I’ve stuck both of my feet in my mouth, I’m going to go help the little ones get ready for bed.” She tosses me an apologetic grimace before hugging Hollis once more. “Thank you again. Please come back anytime.”

  Hollis tells her she had a great time and will be back and I know she means it. As if I didn’t already know, tonight confirmed that Hollis is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. She flitted around all night, smiling and joking with the kids like she belonged here.

  She radiates this light from inside her and no matter how much distance I vow to keep between us, I can’t help but gravitate in her direction. Me and everyone else. The kids lit up like Christmas trees every time she came near them.

  “You ready to go?” I ask, once we’ve finished cleaning up.

  She glances over her shoulder. “Um, I promised the girls I’d read them a bedtime story. You can go ahead if you need to.”

  Like hell. This neighborhood isn’t great. She’s not going to her car alone in the dark. Damn sure not dressed like that.

  “I can wait.”

  Moments later, I’m leaning in the doorway of the room where the younger girls sleep, watching Hollis as she captivates her audience with her gentle rendition of A Night Before Christmas.

  An unfamiliar warmth spreads through my chest.

  This isn’t exactly how I saw this going.

  Part of me hoped she’d see where I come from and realize I’m not who she
thinks I am. That she’s in over her head and should remain on the perimeter of my life where it’s safe. But Hollis did what she always does. She ran toward my demons with wide-open outstretched arms and smiled at them—making herself at home in the darkest part of my past.

  When she starts singing a soft lullaby while walking around the room and tucking each little girl into bed, I have to excuse myself. Finding the closest bathroom, I splash cold water on my face and give myself a few hard slaps. In the mirror, I see a man I don’t recognize. And it’s not just because of the Santa costume.

  Something is happening to me. Something I can’t comprehend because it’s never happened before.

  Parts of me that have been frozen solid since my childhood are thawing and it’s an overwhelming feeling I don’t enjoy. Something akin to drowning.

  I like control. I need control. When you grow up with none of it, it becomes a precious commodity you depend on for survival.

  Hollis rips my ability to control my emotions right out of my chest and dribbles it around like a basketball. Twirling it expertly on one finger while smirking at me.

  Walking her out to her car in silence, I stuff my hands in my pockets so I don’t accidentally do something stupid like touch her.

  I’ve made it clear that this—whatever it is we are to each other—can never go there. The last thing I want to do is send her mixed signals.

  When we arrive at our vehicles, her Corolla and my Range Rover, Hollis looks over my shoulder at the building we just left.

  “So…you grew up here?”

  I open her car door, taking her keys and reaching in to start the engine so it can warm up before she gets in.

  “‘Grew up’ being a relative term, yeah. In and out from the time I was three until I was fifteen.”

  “What happened at fifteen?”

  Here goes. Spilling my secrets and hoping she can handle them.

  “I ran away. Well, technically I got kicked out for fighting but I didn’t come back when I got out of juvie. I joined a gang, actually.”