Monica Jackson - Merry Christmas, Baby

by Merry Christmas, Baby

  “Now who is this old white man in my house and when is somebody going to introduce me to him?”

  “Mama, please. You know Nick. This is his father, Saul Cohen. And this is my mother, Betty Silvers.”

  “Delighted,” my father said. He took Mrs. Silvers’s hand and held it too long, looking deep in her eyes.

  “Is somebody going to offer this gentleman something to drink?” the Dragon demanded. “We have some good eggnog. I made it myself.”

  “Then I must try some,” Dad said.

  “Get us two glasses, Sharyn.”

  “Please call me Saul,” Dad said to her.

  “You call me Betty.” Was the Dragon batting her eyes? Lord.

  I was relieved when Sharyn returned with the eggnog. Watching the old man put the move on the Dragon was somewhat disgusting, if I can be frank.

  I guess they hit it off. I supposed they were both equally obnoxious in their own ways. The Dragon wore her age well. Besides, Dad liked them plump.

  “C’mon, Nick. You can help me put out the food,” Sharyn said. I was more than willing to trot after her to the kitchen.

  Dad and the Dragon had three glasses of eggnog apiece and were getting rather loud and raucous by the time the food was set out and everybody was settled around the table.

  I’d finally been introduced to Sharyn’s brother, Robert. He was a quiet man with no immediate eccentric appearance other than the multicolored robes he wore.

  Dad rolled the Dragon’s wheelchair to the table. “Son,” she said to Robert, “you being the eldest male in the family, I’d ask you to say the grace,” the Dragon said. “But I still haven’t recovered from last year. Saul, will you do the honors?”

  “I afraid I’m going to have to pass on the Christmas blessing,” Dad answered.

  The children tittered.

  “Robert prayed to somebody named Metatron last year. I wouldn’t be surprised if that wasn’t what brought on Mama’s stroke,” Sharyn whispered in my ear.

  “I’ll say the prayer, Mama. After all, I am an ordained minister.”

  “Not in my house you won’t unless you make it clear you’re praying to the Lord God Almighty Heavenly Father Jehovah in the blessed name of our Savior Jesus Christ.”

  “All right, Mother, but—”

  “Ump, ump, nope. Don’t want to hear it. Say the prayer right or don’t say it at all,” the Dragon ordered.

  Dad was pretending to cough in his napkin. I was surprised he wasn’t choking with gales of laughter by now.

  Robert cleared his throat and delivered a heartfelt and respectful prayer to the appropriate deity.

  Sharyn squeezed my hand. I looked into her gorgeous brown eyes and decided this was the most entertaining Christmas Eve I’d had in years. I hoped that this was only the first of many family Christmases together.

  Dinner was delicious. Sure enough, just as I’d foreseen, the animal carcasses disappeared like magic from behind the closed kitchen door.

  My head snapped toward my dad and the Dragon. Had he just asked her to bingo? That qualified as a date!

  Sharyn’s gaze followed mine. “They’re hitting it off,” she said. “Surprised?”

  “Very.”

  “Mama was something of a player back in the day.”

  “So was the old man.”

  “They make quite a match.”

  “We should lay a bet on who does the other in first.”

  “No fair. Your dad can run.”

  “Nick,” the object of our conversation said. I swung my head toward Dad, feeling guilty.

  “Gina Reavis is moving down to Florida to be closer to her daughter,” he said. “Her apartment would be perfect for Betty.”

  “I can’t afford that place,” the Dragon said.

  “What are you talking about?” Robert asked.

  “Saul lives in a retirement center. It sounds great. Lots of activity, enough support so I could be independent. You know I never wanted to be dependent on my children,” the Dragon said. Then she shrugged. “I can’t afford it anyway.”

  “I love having you here, Mama,” Sharyn said. “You sacrificed and gave a lot to us, now it’s time for us to give back a little.”

  “I did no more than what a mother is supposed to do. I could have done better, could have done worse. That doesn’t mean that I gotta live up under my kids until I’m dead and buried.”

  “You can live the way you want to live,” Robert said. “It’s not as if you don’t have options.”

  “What are you talking about, boy?” the Dragon snapped. I had a guilty sense of satisfaction hearing that term directed at someone other than me.

  “I don’t have the option to get the hell up out of this chair and dance,” the Dragon said with a snort.

  “You have financial options,” Robert said. “Ballpark, how much are we talking?” he asked Dad.

  Dad told him. It wasn’t a small amount.

  The Dragon snorted louder. “What lottery you won, boy?” she asked.

  “All right,” Robert said.

  “All right, what? I know you don’t have that kind of money and I know Sharyn doesn’t, either.”

  “We have that kind of money,” Robert said.

  His wife nodded in agreement. “It’s doable,” she added.

  “Ya’ll done won the lottery?” the Dragon asked.

  I noticed Sharyn leaning towards her brother, her brow raised. She was wondering what was up, too.

  “The church of the Glorious Inner Light of Free Earth Beings in Space is financially very well supported,” Robert said.

  I thought the Dragon was going to fall over, she snorted so hard. “What? The space aliens got funds?”

  Robert looked a little offended. “We’re popular with the celebrities and the affluent. The light beings have a wonderful effect of the inner and outer bodies, freeing the way for emotional and financial success.”

  “He got a scam running,” the Dragon said. “Saul, you hear that?”

  Dad nodded. “I know of similar cults that are very financially well-supported by certain segments.”

  The Dragon surveyed Robert, disbelief written on her face. But it was that tinge of admiration in her gaze? “Sharyn, you hear that? My boy’s getting paid.”

  “I heard him.” Sharyn’s voice was dry.

  “Investigate this apartment, Mama, and if that’s what you want to do, let me know,” Robert said, picking up his fork.

  The Dragon sniffed. “If the boy has fool’s money to spend, I’ll let him spend it.”

  “Are you talking about me?” Robert asked. “I’m right here, Mama. And I’m a grown man, too,” he reminded her.

  “Yep. I’m talking about you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re always going to be my boy,” the Dragon replied. “But I gotta say, you’re chock full of surprises this evening.” She took a bite of her food. “This dressing is wonderful, Sharyn. You didn’t sneak any meat-based broth in it, perchance?”

  Sharyn had the grace to look a little guilty.

  The Dragon beamed at her. “This is turning out to be a dandy Christmas, isn’t it?”

  The kids were in the bedroom watching Christmas DVDs and the grown-ups were sitting around stuffed; sipping rum-spiked eggnog, listening to mellow Christmas soul music and watching the lights blink on the tree.

  Sharyn leaned back in my arms. It felt great, a wonderful Christmas Eve. Just one more thing would make it perfect. “Coming home with me?” I whispered in her ear.

  “Let’s go,” she whispered back.

  I yawned. “Dad, we better get going. It’s past ten.”

  “So soon?” Mrs. Silvers asked.

  “Yeah, Nick, we can stay a little longer.”

  “I think Sharyn and I better turn in. Tomorrow is a big day,” I said.

  Silence.

  “I’ll go get my bag,” Sharyn said in her perkiest voice. I braced myself for the Dragon’s roar.

  But the Dragon was too busy giving her digits to my
Dad to bother.

  Her Last

  “I got you a Christmas present,” Nick told me as soon as we’d reached the privacy of his condo. “I just didn’t want to give it to you in front of all those people.”

  “I got you one too, baby.” I reached for him.

  “I’m talking tangible goods,” he said.

  “And what makes you think I wasn’t?”

  He walked toward a shelf and took a small package off it and handed it to me. “Merry Christmas.”

  I love gifts, and it’s true—the best things come in small packages. I opened the box, eager. My eyes grew moist as I stared. “It’s too much.”

  “It’s not enough,” he said. He took the gold chain with the perfect square-cut ruby dangling on it out of the box and fastened it around my neck.

  “How did you know this was my birthstone?”

  “I asked your mother. She said it was your favorite and that you seldom spend money on yourself or the pretty things you love.”

  I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you. I love it.”

  It didn’t feel as if we had just met, as if we didn’t really know each other that well. Nick seemed like my soul mate, trusted and loving enough to feel like an old friend, edgy and enticing enough to be flaming-hot.

  I sank into his kiss, my body molding to his, ready and yielding. But then I remembered and pulled away. “I have something for you.” I moved to my purse. “It’s not nearly as grand as your gift, but I liked this.”

  I held a delicate Christmas tree in my hand, carved and exquisite, gleaming with tiny lights. It was a beautiful object. “I noticed you didn’t have a tree. I thought a small one that you could keep with you would be right.”

  He took it from me and studied it. “This is great.”

  “But it’s not all.” I handed him another package. I’d bought him a compilation of comedy CDs and DVDs, the best of the best, from old classics to the newest emerging talents. “I thought this would be right up your alley.”

  “How did you know I love stand-up comedy?”

  “Guessed.”

  He kissed me again. “God, I adore you.”

  “We don’t know each other yet.”

  “It feels like we do.”

  I couldn’t answer that because it did. His tenderness soon ignited a passion within me, and our kisses grew hungry and wild.

  We fell on his bed together. I was as greedy as I always was for him and pulled him free from his slacks.

  He gasped as I held his heaviness in my hand, my thumb rotating around the bead of moisture at the tip. What a beautiful man. I wanted him, all of him.

  “You’re going to make me explode.” His voice was husky, and he pulled away my clothes, dropping them over the side of the bed to the floor. My blouse, my bra.

  His tongue swirled around one nipple, then the other, teasing them to erect, taut peaks, breathing hot breath over them.

  It felt so good. He pulled heat from deep within my core as he sucked. But, greedy, I wanted more.

  I couldn’t wait, wouldn’t wait another moment. I rolled over on top of him and kissed him, our tongues as frantic as our bodies as I rid us of the rest of the cloth barriers between our skin.

  He was rock-hard, so big and beautiful. I straddled him, expertly slid a condom on him, and took him inside me in one motion.

  He grabbed my hips and sucked in his breath harshly. The large ridged head of his penis slid slow and easy into my velvety wetness.

  “So good,” I said, barely able to whisper through the intense feeling as my hips churned against him.

  He groaned and thrust up against me sharp and hard. His clever, expert fingers reached and spread my juices over me.

  It seemed as if I felt every vein of him as he moved inside my buttered wetness, plunging, filling every inch. The storm inside me was building, rising, inexorable.

  Then a crack of thunder, unexpected and violent, ripped through me. Everything went black for a moment as it rocked me, making me convulse on his hardness, clutching him tight inside me.

  His body tightened and he rolled me over, plunging deep, his penis working in and out. I met him stroke for stroke, and a moment later he buried himself deep within me, shuddering.

  We subsided against each other. I felt as if I’d come home, wrapped within his arms.

  I woke up and looked at the clock next to the bed. Six in the morning. I was far too alert and clearheaded for the hour.

  I got up, careful not to disturb Nick’s slumbering form. I took a quick shower and dressed in one of Nick’s robes, padded into his kitchen to see if he had any green tea.

  He didn’t. I made some instant coffee in the microwave instead, too lazy to figure out how to unset the preset coffeemaker. I went into his office and booted up his computer for a quick game of solitaire.

  To my surprise, I saw an icon for Match4Luv.com on his desktop. I frowned as I clicked it. He’d saved all his passwords in his browser and on the site. My frown deepened when I saw his handle.

  Nick was GH0ST30.

  I swallowed as I turned off the computer. I made sure I left his office as I’d found it. I poured the coffee down the drain, then washed and rinsed the cup, feeling as if somebody had punched me in the stomach.

  I went back to the bed and lay next to Nick, stiff, staring at the ceiling. I’d trusted him. We’d promised not to lie to each other, but he’d been dishonest with me from the beginning.

  I’d gambled my heart and taken a chance on this relationship. What was wrong with my judgment with men? What was wrong with me? I wiped at my eyes. I waited.

  About an hour later Nick rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom. When he returned, he saw I was awake and slipped back into bed, pulling me to him. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he said.

  I stiffened and started to speak.

  “Shush,” he said. “I have something that I’ve been trying to tell you for a long time. I want to get it out now, so I need you to listen for a moment.”

  I looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

  “The first time I came to your house and saw you, I knew you were the one for me. You left, remember? But you left your computer on.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “I’m GH0ST30. I know I was wrong and I apologize. I should have told you, like I said, but I haven’t been able to get it out.”

  I didn’t move, didn’t look at him. The pain of betrayal still felt too raw.

  “Are you going to say something?”

  “Did the things you said to me as GH0ST…were you lying, too?” I asked.

  “No, I was telling the truth.”

  The hardest question of all. “Were you only trying to get me into bed?” I asked.

  “No, no. I adore you. I’ve been crazy about you from the beginning. You have to believe that. That’s the only reason I pretended—I thought it was the only way to get next to you.”

  I didn’t know what to believe. An hour ago, I believed everything he said. Now, after one lie, I had trouble believing anything.

  “Without trust, there isn’t anything left,” I murmured.

  He looked as if I’d punched him.

  I looked away. “The kids are probably up by now. I’m going to get dressed, then I’ll be ready for you to take me home.”

  I’d just picked up my purse in preparation of following Nick outside the door when he grabbed my hands.

  “You have to talk to me. We need to work this through.”

  “Please take your hands off me.”

  He stepped back. “Sharyn.”

  “Nick, I’m hurt. I’m in shock. I’m deeply disappointed. I don’t want to talk right now. I need to process this.”

  “You have to talk to me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything but stay black and die,” I snapped. When stressed, I admit a bit of Mama comes out in me.

  “When people have a difficulty in a relationship, they work it through. That’s what I expect.”

  “And
I expect not to be lied to. I made that abundantly clear from the get-go.” I sighed. “Take me home. Now is not the time to talk. Things might get said that don’t need saying. You need to leave me alone.”

  Nick got out his keys and opened the door. He waited for me to exit, tight-lipped. Christmas was no longer merry, not one little bit.

  There was a strange car in front of our house, an older Mercedes.

  “Dad’s here?” Nick said.

  Loud traditional Christmas music was playing and the kids were yelling and laughing. Nick followed me into the living room. Sure enough, his father was there, next to Mama, both beaming at the kids, who were surrounded by so many presents it looked as if Santa’s workshop had exploded.

  We were definitely going to have to ship all this back to California.

  “The kids were up at the crack of dawn opening presents,” Mama said.

  “Santa was good to us,” my nephew Jeremy crowed.

  “It sure looks like it. Where’s Robert and Carole?”

  “They went back to bed.”

  “Did you eat, Mama?”

  “Saul brought us breakfast. It’s in the kitchen. Are you going to open your presents?”

  “Later, Mama,” I said and escaped to the sanctuary of my bedroom. I carefully locked the door before I threw myself on the bed and let my tears escape.

  I emerged from my room an hour later.

  “My son says you’re upset with him. He went on home.”

  Nick’s dad looked a little pissed off, but it was Mother who verbalized it, as usual. “It’s Christmas, for heaven’s sake, chile! Haven’t you ever heard of Christian forgiveness?”

  “I need to take a run. I’ll be back in a while.”

  “Carole brought a tofu ham for Christmas dinner.” Mama gave me a meaningful look and Saul shuddered.

  I laughed. “Yes, Mama, I’ll be back in time to help Carole with dinner.”

  I got in my car and drove to Piedmont Park. I ran a couple of miles, wind in my face, sweat in my eyes. Then I got back in my car and drove to Nick’s place.

  “Who is it?” Nick asked when I pressed the button on the intercom.