by Kay Harris
“Yes. Going to South Miami in separate cars. I’m leaving from the club in Miami Beach now.”
Elias was heading to Everett’s ex-almost-mother-in-law’s house for the holidays. The knowledge was more weird than stinging.
“You back to fencing?” Everett had felt guilty when Elias gave up his sports career to work with him on building the business. He was sure Elias could have been headed to the Olympics. A few years later, Everett would come to feel that his guilt was wasted on a lousy friend who’d tried to take everything from him.
“Yeah. I’m back at it,” Elias said.
“Good.” The silence made Everett’s chest tight. Why was he having this awkward conversation? He and Elias hadn’t spoken directly to each other in three years, since Elias had run off with Everett’s fiancée and sued him for a piece of the company. “What do you want, Elias?”
“I want to talk.” Elias’s voice was low. He sounded vulnerable. Everett knew that tone. He’d been through everything with this man. They’d been inseparable from the age of six until it all fell apart three years ago.
“Look, man. If you’re having trouble with Rebecca or some shit, I’m the last person—”
“No. I didn’t call for that. I just miss you.”
Everett had no idea what to say to that. So he waited, his breath held, chest tight.
“I’m sorry, Everett. I really am.”
Everett let out his breath. “Don’t be. It was a shit situation. And I played my part, too.” He had long ago come to realize he’d been a crappy fiancé to Rebecca, which included putting off the wedding for nearly four years. It didn’t justify what Rebecca and Elias had done to him. But it didn’t really matter now anyway. Elias’ part in all that was done and over with. “But in the end…I don’t know. I guess I dodged a bullet, thanks to you.”
“I’d laugh at that, but I don’t want to risk pissing you off,” Elias said, his tone serious.
Everett chuckled. “Fair enough.”
“I want to talk again.” That vulnerability was back. An image of Elias crying in Everett’s arms the night Elias’ mother passed away flashed through Everett’s head, and he almost gave in.
“Look. I can’t right now. It’s not that I can’t forgive you. I think I can. I think I have. But at the moment, I’m pretty pissed at your girlfriend. Maybe more than I was before.”
Elias didn’t ask why. He didn’t say a word. They had once been so close. That tie was still there in some ways, despite everything they’d been through. Elias left the statement sitting there knowing Everett would say more.
“Here’s the thing. Seven years ago, I had a chance with someone. And I let it go because of Rebecca. And now I want this girl back. But she won’t forgive me for choosing Rebecca over her. So, now I have some fresh shit with Rebecca right now. And I just need a little time to stew. You know?”
Elias’ tone was knowing. “Yeah. I do know.”
Everett’s head spun. A new set of questions popped into his mind. Had Elias had a thing for Rebecca all those years ago, too? Is that why things had turned out the way they did? Had that fateful proposal hurt everyone?
“Tell you what,” Elias said, interrupting Everett’s thoughts. “How about, if you feel like talking—about this girl, or whatever—you just call me, anytime. I’ll make sure to be alone.”
“I appreciate the offer.”
“It stands.”
Everett smiled to himself. He could not deny he missed his friend. “Merry Christmas, E.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Chapter 6
“I can’t believe you!” Mica tapped Roger on the shoulder playfully. “You are such a freak!”
“He started it!” The young, gorgeous ball player pointed from his position in the back seat to the man in front of him.
Through her own laughter, Maya shifted in the front passenger seat and turned her attention to the car’s driver, and the one responsible for the off-color joke about the inflatable Santa’s questionable position behind Rudolph.
Everett’s gaze remained focused on the narrow neighborhood street, but his grin was blinding. “Guilty.”
Maya had never had this much fun on their traditional Christmas Eve lights ride. Usually she sat in the back seat, falling asleep as her parents slowly drove through the neighborhoods and pointed to all the neighbors’ Christmas light displays while Mica played on his phone.
Tonight, however, her parents were in their car with Trudy while she rode with Mica, the man Mica had brought home for Christmas, and Everett freaking Evans. They rode in Everett’s fancy car, cruising the quiet streets of the North Bay. And Maya hadn’t laughed this hard in years.
“I swear. Last weekend I was at a party with a dozen celebrities, an open bar, and live entertainment, and I didn’t have as much fun as I am having right now,” Roger said.
Maya turned her head to look into the back seat in time to see Mica grab Roger’s hand and pull it into his lap as the two of them stared lovingly into each other’s eyes.
“You guys are freaking adorable.” The statement, said low and with utter sincerity, came from Everett, who was glancing at Mica and Roger in the rearview mirror as the car was stopped at a corner.
“Aw, thanks hot, straight guy,” Mica said as Roger laughed.
Maya put a hand on her chest. She hadn’t done much dating lately. But the men she’d been out with over the years were a bit of a mixed bag when it came to her beloved brother, who was both proud of who he was and unafraid to be demonstrative about it. She’d immediately dumped one guy who expressed open homophobia. The others had claimed to be fine with Mica, but some seemed to be hiding discomfort that always made her hate them just a little bit.
Everett, on the other hand, was not only comfortable with Mica and Roger cuddling in his back seat, he seemed to be genuinely touched by their affection. His reaction to them was similar to that of Mica’s lifelong best friend, Joel, who had spent a great deal of their college years in gay bars with Mica despite being straight himself.
It wasn’t that it was strange. In Maya’s mind it should be the norm. It was that, for some reason, she hadn’t expected it from Everett. She mentally scolded herself for making assumptions.
“You okay?” Everett asked.
The car had stopped, pulled over in front of a modest ranch-style house with the most pathetic light display in the neighborhood. Mica and Roger had climbed out and were pulling a set of decorations from the trunk.
“I’m good,” Maya told him. Mica passed her window, his arms burdened. “We should probably help them play Santa.”
She reached for the door handle, but Everett set his hand on her other arm. She froze. “They said they got this. They wanted us to stay in the car for a quick getaway.”
Maya chuckled. “Like someone is going to come out with a shotgun because two dudes are decorating their yard?”
“It does seem doubtful.” He grinned. “Especially since this is the house of the middle school principal.” He squinted his eyes to see Mica and Roger better in the darkness. “The battery operated lights were a good idea. That way the family won’t have a bigger electric bill. Mom says they have like six kids.”
The compassion in his voice combined with the warmth of his hand, still on her arm, touched her. “Are you having fun?” she asked, because she didn’t know what the hell else to say.
“God, yes. I agree with Roger. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while. Especially at family Christmas.”
Everett and Roger had been incredibly good sports. They might have been lulled into thinking this would be a normal Christmas Eve while they were eating dinner at the McDonald dining table. But right after the plates were cleared, Bert and Henny had loaded them up into the two vehicles and taken them to the hospital to sing carols to the patients. After a couple hours of awkwardly trudging through the same four songs over and over again in various hospital wards, they’d embarked on this adventure which had taken another couple hours
of driving around people’s homes like creepers and looking at the Christmas lights they’ve had up for the last six weeks.
Everett hadn’t made a single protest, produced one eye roll, or done anything other than grin from ear-to-ear all night. Maya wanted so badly to hear him grumble something insensitive under his breath or make a sarcastic comment. But he didn’t. He was everything she thought he was all those years ago. And it was killing her.
“Just wait. It gets better. After this we sit around the kitchen table and decorate Christmas cookies while listening to Bing Crosby,” she warned him.
His smile grew impossibly larger. “I can’t wait.”
****
Seven years ago…
Butterflies danced in Maya’s stomach. She peeked out from beneath her dark lashes at the beautiful man sitting across from her at the all-night diner.
“So after I got out of soccer practice and Elias was done with fencing practice, we would sit in the basement and do crafts together.” He chuckled, and the thick, rich sound affected Maya all the way to her toes. “It was our way of relaxing.” He shook his head. “People thought we were so weird. Well, the people who knew.”
“I’ll bet it was a pretty guarded secret.” Maya smiled at him.
His eyes snapped to Maya’s lips.
Maya stayed still as the silence stretched between them. She was sober now. The few flutes of champagne she’d had while chatting with him at the senior art show had not held up well as they stood in the parking lot outside the gallery in the darkening evening and talked for another hour after the show was over. Then any buzz she might have had completely succumbed to the coffee and waffles they lingered over. Plates empty, cups nearly so, it was late, but Maya was wide awake as she watched his tongue smooth over his bottom lip.
“Maya,” he said, his voice quiet and rough. “You are an incredibly beautiful woman. And I don’t think I’ve ever had such easy conversation with a stranger in my life.”
It was so true. They’d been together for the past five hours and their conversation had been nearly constant and mostly filled with laughter and smiles.
They’d avoided the subject of his unfaithful—presumably now ex—girlfriend. They didn’t discuss Maya’s awkward approach or whether or not two strangers should be hanging out together so deep into the night. Instead, they talked about everything from her art to his schooling to their weird hobbies.
“It doesn’t feel like we’re strangers.” Her voice was soft, nearly pleading.
“No, it doesn’t.”
Maya hadn’t touched Everett all night. And he hadn’t touched her. Now the urge to not only reach toward him, but to plaster herself to him from head to toe and seal her lips with his, was overwhelming.
“Any chance…” Maya swallowed. She’d never done anything like this in her life. “Any chance you might want to take me home? My roommate is out of town, and I thought…” She was going to lose her nerve. She was incapable of continuing.
“Have a drink?” Everett suggested.
Maya let out her breath. “Yes.”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
****
Maya woke up Christmas morning and nearly fell out of bed. An impossibly fat, tiger-striped cat had startled her awake by running its sandpaper-like tongue over her nose.
“Gah!” She managed to catch herself by gripping the headboard and swinging her legs back onto the mattress. “Jezebel!”
Trudy’s obese life companion didn’t seem the least bit sorry for having nearly caused Maya to break multiple bones on her second favorite holiday. The pompous pussycat, who had recently decided Maya was her favorite person in the whole world, snuggled herself between Maya’s chin and chest.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Maya wrestled the cat, which had to weigh at least twenty pounds, away from herself enough to sit up in bed.
The door to her room flew open and Maya looked up in shock to see Everett in the doorframe. He looked down at her as she sat up against the wooden headboard her father had hand carved for her when she was eight years old.
“Sorry. Sorry,” he said quickly.
That made Maya look down to see the snug cotton tank top she liked to sleep in had shifted to the side during her scuffle with the cat. One breast was mostly exposed and the other was nearing indecency.
Maya grabbed the light-blue patchwork quilt and slammed it against her chest. “What are you doing in here?” Her voice had gone at least an octave higher.
“We heard you scream, and your mom insisted I come check on you. I know you’re prone to…”
“I’m clumsy! Okay! I’m a little clumsy! That’s no reason to bust into my bedroom!”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” But despite the sincerity in his voice, he didn’t leave. It was as if he was frozen in the doorway.
“Is everybody up?” she finally asked, needing to talk about something normal.
“Yeah. We’re…ah…just waiting for you. We have coffee and cinnamon rolls and all the presents are sitting under the tree. We were kind of wondering where Jezebel had gone to. It being a strange house and all. She wasn’t in the room with my mom when we got up and we thought maybe—”
“Okay. Stop.” Maya held up her hand to cease his babbling. An involuntary smile curved her lips. The man who always seemed so well put together had fallen apart when confronted with a barely dressed woman lying in her childhood bed. It would have been adorable if he weren’t her sworn enemy.
“Sorry.” He finally ripped his gaze away from her and looked down at the beige shag carpet. “I’ll just go.”
“See you downstairs.” Maya was able to contain her giggles until he’d left and shut the door behind him.
Ten minutes later, now dressed in flannel jammies covered in snowmen and a pair of red fuzzy slippers, Maya sat on the sectional between her mother and Mica, who had Roger cuddled up beside him. Much to her dismay, the stupid orange cat was perched on her lap.
Her father and Trudy sat opposite them on the loveseat, and Everett was folded into an overstuffed lounge chair that completed a semicircle of furniture in the center of the living room. The coffee table had been moved to the side to make room for the present debris being collected in the center of the room from the gifts that were making their way from under the tree.
“Jezebel sure has taken a shine to you,” Trudy observed. Her eyes crinkled up at the corners as she smiled at Maya over the top of a massive box covered in Santa wrapping paper that sat on her knees.
Maya looked down at the feline, who was currently scratching at the small, shoebox-sized gift she held. “Maybe she knows I’m allergic. Cats are like that. They’re attracted to the person with the allergies.”
“You’re allergic?” Everett looked startled and jumped half out of his seat as if to move toward the cat.
“No, she’s not,” Henny said quickly, motioning for Everett to sit back down.
“What?” Maya turned to her mother. “You told me I was allergic.”
“That’s because when our cat, Mittens, died,” Henny addressed the entire room. “Maya was so distraught she wouldn’t leave her room for three weeks. So a couple years later when she asked for another cat we told her she was allergic. No cat, no drama.”
“Oh my God! You lied to me!” Maya was flabbergasted, irritated, and embarrassed all at the same time.
Her mother shrugged and smiled sweetly. Her father got up and walked back over to the Christmas tree to hunt for more presents. Mica laughed his stupid ass off while Roger buried his face in Mica’s neck. Trudy smiled lovingly at Maya. And Everett held his hand over his mouth as if to stifle a chuckle.
Maya leaned back in the couch and huffed. She had to remind herself that she didn’t care if her parents wanted to completely humiliate her, or if she wanted to completely humiliate herself for that matter, in front of Everett because she didn’t give a rat’s ass what Everett thought of her.
Bert shifted the conversation by
bringing out a new round of gifts for everyone. Maya pretended not to be completely touched by the gift Everett got his mother, a framed photo he’d found and had restored of her, him, and his father when Everett was just a boy. She also tried desperately not be completely floored by the gift he got her.
While she had made sure to get a gift for Trudy, Maya had not gotten Everett a thing. So she was embarrassed and surprised when he pulled a small box out from under the tree and handed it to her with a shy smile.
The box was long and thin, sort of like the kind of box that usually held a necklace. Maya held her breath as she pulled the crisp paper off to reveal a non-descript brown cardboard box. Her brow furrowed as she opened one end of the box and poured out a felt tray containing a variety of expensive, paint brushes.
Maya’s head shot up and her eyes met Everett’s. He was watching her, his gaze intense. It made butterflies dance in her stomach, just as they had seven years before when she stared at him from across the scrubby table at a dive diner in San Francisco.
“Thank you, Ev.” She said it so softly, it was possible he couldn’t hear her from across the noisy room. But she knew he had when he nodded quickly before turning his attention back to his mother as she opened another gift.
****
For Everett, Christmas dinner was particularly cacophonous and incredibly fun. The addition of new people to celebrate with seemed to have upped the McDonald’s already high joy quotient.
Roger and Mica were nothing short of adorably smitten and hilariously immature. Bert and Henny were filled with love, and they both sported massive smiles the entire time. Everett’s mother was so deeply happy it was written all over her kind face. And Maya grinned and laughed more than he had ever seen, save that one night seven years ago.
She was impossibly beautiful. Her eyes shone. Her smile showed off plump lips that gave him a peek of the slightly spaced teeth behind them. Everett remembered staring at that little gap between Maya’s front teeth the night they’d met. He remembered wanting to run his tongue along it. He had to turn away and focus on his mother as he started to remember the moment he’d done just that.