Grim Holiday (Aisling Grimlock Book 6)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “That’s true.”

  “Speaking of that, all of the Christmas gifts I bought are hidden in the bottom of my closet. I need to get back to the townhouse so I can collect them.”

  “I thought Jerry did that.”

  “No.”

  “He said he did.”

  “He said he got the gifts out of my car, the ones I bought for you before the attack,” I clarified. “He didn’t say anything about the gifts in the closet. Those are wrapped, by the way. They just need to be transported here.”

  “Okay. I’ll have Jerry pick them up.”

  “You can’t. He’ll open them, and some are for him.”

  Griffin stilled. “He’ll open them?”

  I shrugged. “That’s what he does.”

  “He makes me so tired.” Griffin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. I’ll swing by the townhouse and check things out before grabbing all of the gifts. I have some of my own that need to be picked up. Do you have anything else you want me to bring from the townhouse? Pajamas or anything?”

  I shook my head, uneasy. “Don’t go alone.”

  “Why? The mirror monster hasn’t shown any interest in me.”

  “No, but … I still don’t want you to go alone.”

  Griffin studied me for a moment, his eyes unreadable. “Are you going to start babysitting me?”

  “Nope. There’s a difference between babysitting and caring for the person you love. The mirror man might be monitoring the townhouse because he thinks I’ll go back. I will be very upset if you’re caught in the crossfire.”

  “What if I avoid all mirrors?”

  I’d considered that … and dismissed it. “That’s impossible. The mirror in the living room looks out on the main hallway. He’ll see you no matter what.”

  Griffin pursed his lips as he regarded me, his lips curving in amusement. “Okay. I’m not going to argue with you.”

  “Oh, but making up is so much fun.”

  Griffin snickered. “We can make up. But I refuse to argue so close to Christmas.”

  “I think that’s fair … as long as you don’t go back to the townhouse alone.”

  “I’ll take one of your brothers,” Griffin promised. “In fact, maybe I’ll talk to Aidan. We can meet there when I’m done with work so he can grab stuff for Jerry and himself. We’ll work together as we go through each townhouse. Will that make you happy?”

  “The only thing that would make me happier is if you bathed yourself in chocolate sauce and then rolled around in sprinkles.”

  It took a moment for Griffin to grasp the visual, and when he did he couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re funny.” He tickled me as we rolled so he could be on top, pinning me below his reassuring weight. “I might try to make that scenario work for Valentine’s Day, if you’re up for it.”

  “Really?” My mind was busy with the possibilities. “Is that when you plan to propose?”

  Griffin stilled. “I’m not telling you when I plan to propose. It won’t be a surprise if I tell you.”

  “That’s probably a yes.” I was feeling pretty smug. “You need to get your courage up to ask Dad for his permission. You won’t do that while the mirror monster is hanging around. Yeah … that means Valentine’s Day. I approve of your plan. The sprinkles and chocolate sauce sound delightful.”

  Griffin’s grin was impish, but not in a fun away. He reminded me of one of my brothers when they were about to get one over on me. “How much have you been thinking about that?”

  “I … thinking about what?” Something on the blank wall to my left became very interesting as I avoided eye contact.

  “The proposal.”

  “I haven’t been thinking about that. Forget I mentioned it.” I did my best to wrestle out from underneath him, but he easily kept me in place.

  “Don’t make yourself sick over it,” Griffin chided. “It’s supposed to be a good thing. I think it’s cute that you’re obsessing about it – and I’m not sure how I missed the signs that you are – but it will happen when it’s meant to happen.”

  “I haven’t been obsessing about it,” I snapped, my temper getting the better of me. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because I know you,” Griffin replied, unruffled by my tone. “You fixate on something until you drive yourself mad. Do you remember the time you saw the yellow shoes and couldn’t imagine what they’d look like if someone decided to wear them?”

  I couldn’t believe he was bringing that up months after the fact. “They were yellow. No one wears yellow shoes. It’s unheard of. Even Jerry was baffled.”

  “Yes, he was,” Griffin agreed, smirking. “What happened with the yellow shoes?”

  “I forget.” I didn’t forget. On the other hand, a good boyfriend would never force me to remember.

  “I didn’t forget. You finally broke down and bought the shoes, stared at yourself in a mirror for two days straight, complained about the shoes with Jerry and then donated them to the Salvation Army because needy people might like yellow shoes. You essentially flushed a hundred and fifty bucks down the toilet.”

  “And your point is?”

  “You made yourself crazy over shoes you didn’t even want,” Griffin replied. “Don’t make yourself crazy over this. I promise to make it as perfect as possible – and that includes the timing. All you have to do is show up and say yes.”

  He was so matter-of-fact it was mindboggling. “What makes you think I’ll say yes?”

  Griffin pressed his hand to my heart. “This.”

  “Oh, geez. I can’t even make fun of you when you’re so sincere. I hate that!”

  “I know.” Griffin pressed a sloppy kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Now, come on. It’s time for breakfast and then I have work. You’re going to be your father’s problem today, and that makes me kind of giddy. I think it’s going to be the best day we’ve had in almost two weeks.”

  I wasn’t convinced. “I don’t think my father would agree.”

  “That’s why it’s going to be fun.”

  “I’M BORED.”

  Dad didn’t bother glancing up from his desk as I slid on the ceramic tile – my plush stockings making for excellent skates – past the open door of his office. He remained focused on his computer.

  “Do you think it’s possible for someone to die of boredom?” I slid past again.

  “No,” Dad replied shortly.

  “I’m not so sure.” I was back and internally smiling as I saw Dad’s cheeks flush with color. “I definitely think it’s possible. The question is: Am I almost there?”

  “Aisling, I’m fairly certain that it’s impossible for someone to die of boredom.” Dad isn’t known for his patience. Because this was the first day all of my brothers returned to work and he was left holding the babysitting bag, I was fairly certain I would have him yelling in five minutes flat. I was almost looking forward to it.

  “What if I’m the exception to the rule?” I pressed, refusing to give up and let him work in peace. “You always said that I defied categorization. This could be another example.”

  “When I said that, I was referring to the fact that you didn’t act like a normal girl when you were younger,” Dad supplied. “Of course, I don’t like defining my children by ‘normal,’ parameters, so I was perfectly fine with that. You wanted to play rough and tumble games with your brothers rather than toting dolls. It wasn’t an insult, and you shouldn’t view it as such.”

  “I never considered it an insult.”

  “That’s good.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m so bored I might keel over and die right in front of your office,” I added. “I think it’s a distinct possibility, in fact. I can feel the darkness within clawing its way out. Soon it shall overpower me.”

  “You’re so unbelievably dramatic.” Dad blew out a sigh and finally fixed me with a harsh look. “What are you doing?”

  “Dying of boredom.”

  “Other than that.” Dad w
rinkled his nose, distaste evident on his features. “Why are you sliding on the floor? You could fall if you’re not careful. Do you want to be injured again? I don’t think Griffin will take kindly to you being injured for Christmas.”

  “That shows what you know,” I scoffed. “Griffin and I had a long talk last night. He’s over his attempts to smother me. He’s ready to let me resume my life the way I see fit.”

  Dad let loose with a derisive snort. “Since when did you become an easy mark?”

  I stilled. “I’m not an easy mark.”

  “You are if you believe Griffin is over everything that happened to you,” Dad challenged. “He may very well convince himself that smothering you isn’t the right way to go, but that doesn’t mean he’s done worrying about you.”

  “It’s human nature to worry about people,” I countered. “That never goes away. Look at you. On any other day you would’ve slammed the door in my face and told me to amuse myself. But, because I was seriously injured you’re reminding yourself of my frailty as you pretend to be interested in this conversation because you don’t want to upset me.”

  Annoyance – and perhaps a small bit of pride – flashed over Dad’s features as he regarded me. “You’ve always been able to read people. I don’t know why I let myself forget that at times. You sit back, watch people and then come up with a plan of attack to get what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That wasn’t necessarily a compliment.”

  “It wasn’t a dig either,” I pointed out, planting my hands on my hips. “I choose to think of it as a compliment.”

  “That’s another of your finer qualities,” Dad noted. “You only see what you want to see until you wear people down and force them to look through your eyes when dealing with important matters.”

  “Thank you again.”

  Dad rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine. We both know I’m not going to yell no matter how hard you push. I think you’re testing your boundaries because you believe if you cause me to yell things will return to normal. We’re not there yet.”

  “Because you think I almost died?”

  “You did almost die.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true.”

  “Yes? Well, you weren’t there like we were,” Dad argued. “You didn’t hear the doctor. You didn’t look in from the outside and watch your body struggle to keep working. You’re really no judge of the matter.”

  My eyebrows flew up my forehead. “I don’t have a say in whether or not I almost died?”

  “No. I’m the father. I make the rules.”

  “You’re so much stricter than I remember,” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned against the doorframe. “Are you going to do something about my boredom?”

  “What did you have in mind? Would you like to play a game of hearts?”

  I didn’t like his tone. “You don’t need to talk to me as if I’m two.”

  “I’m not so sure. The last time you needed me to entertain you I believe you were two.”

  “I’m under house arrest,” I reminded him. “Griffin might be over the immediate need to cuff himself to me as a form of protection – and not in a fun way, mind you – but he’s still adamant that I not wander around on my own.”

  “We definitely agree on that front,” Dad said. “What is it you want to do that you require supervision?”

  “I want to go shopping.”

  Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it. Dad furrowed his brow as he rubbed his temples. “You want to go shopping? You hate shopping.”

  “I do hate shopping,” I confirmed. “But my shopping was interrupted by a mirror monster, and I’m short a few gifts. Christmas is almost here, and I haven’t gotten Katherine something. I haven’t gotten Maya anything, either. I owe Jerry another gift for stealing Cillian’s phone last night. And, well, I wouldn’t mind being able to find at least one more thing for Griffin.”

  Dad’s expression softened. “You’re nervous about this being a big Christmas, aren’t you?”

  I balked. “What do you mean? What have you heard?”

  “What have you heard?” Dad looked suspicious. “No matter what your brother says, I did not get you a pony.”

  I relaxed, if only marginally. “I need to get some last-minute shopping in. You’re my only hope to do that.”

  Dad made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat as he sat back in his chair. “Aisling, in addition to being packed, the mall is going to be full of mirrors. You won’t be safe.”

  “The mirror monster wouldn’t dare try to attack in a mall full of people,” I argued. “It hasn’t survived this long, gone unnoticed for this long, by attacking in front of hordes of annoying shoppers.”

  “It attacked at the retirement center,” Dad pointed out.

  “Only because I was in an isolated area. I really need two hours at the mall. I don’t want to beg … but I will.”

  Dad snorted. “You don’t beg.”

  I took him by surprise when I hurried to his side, dropped to my knees and fluttered my eyelashes against his cheek. “Please! Please! Please!”

  “Stop that.” Dad’s frustration was evident. “You know I don’t like it when you make that puppy voice. It drives me crazy.”

  I continued my ministrations, adding a whiny tone. “Pretty please with sprinkles on top!”

  “Oh, geez.” Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’ll take you shopping. If this backfires, though, I’ll blame you.”

  “I would expect nothing less. Bring your credit card.”

  Dad’s eyebrows hopped. “Why am I paying?”

  “Because I almost died.”

  Dad growled. No, he literally growled. “You are so lucky that you almost died. Otherwise you’d be my least favorite child right now.”

  “I’m still your favorite, though, right?”

  Dad fought the urge to smile … and lost. “You are a very important piece of my heart. Now, come on. We need to get this shopping out of the way before Griffin figures out that I let you manipulate me.”

  “Since when are you afraid of Griffin?”

  “Since I watched him take care of you after the attack,” Dad replied, not missing a beat. “That man is scary.”

  “He’s also kind of sweet.”

  “Sadly, I’ve figured out exactly what you see in him,” Dad agreed. “Now, let’s see if we can make my credit card tired, shall we?”

  It was the best offer I’d had in days.

  27

  Twenty-Seven

  “What do you think of this?”

  I held up a black shirt, made of the softest material I’d ever touched, and cast a hopeful look toward Dad.

  “I think that you look better in bright colors,” Dad replied, blasé.

  “I was talking about for Griffin.”

  “Oh.” Dad cracked a smile. He gets off on infuriating his offspring as much as we enjoy messing with him. “I think the fabric is nice, but Griffin wears a lot of black. Why don’t you consider getting him a brighter color?”

  I pursed my lips and stared at the rack. “I don’t know. He almost always wears black.”

  “Which is why you should get him a bright color. What do you think, Katherine?”

  Once she heard we were going shopping Katherine insisted on tagging along. I was mildly irritated at first, but she’d been pleasant and enjoyable since we arrived at the mall, and unlike my father she was always more than happy to give her opinion when I picked something out with Griffin in mind.

  “I think Griffin wears a lot of black and would pick that color if he had his druthers,” Katherine replied, running her fingers over the shirt. “That fabric is lovely. He’ll probably ruin it at work.”

  That was a fair point. “I don’t care about that,” I said after a beat. “I ruin a lot of clothes. I’ve gotten him a number of things – and I already have his big gift. I want a few other things to round out his haul.”

  Dad arched an eye
brow. “May I ask why you’re so determined to make sure he has a lot of gifts? It’s not the number of gifts that counts. It’s the thought behind the gifts.”

  “You always made sure we had piles of gifts,” I reminded him. “Mom thought we should have only two or three gifts each under the tree. You agreed to her terms every year and then spoiled us rotten.”

  Katherine slid a questioning glance in Dad’s direction. “Is that true?”

  Dad shrugged. “Christmas is my favorite time of year. What good is having money if you can’t make Christmas special?”

  “Yes, and I’m spending your money,” I pointed out. “I like the black.”

  “Then get the black.”

  I eyed the shirt one more time and then draped it over my arm. “I think this is the last thing I need for Griffin. I want to stop by that store with all of the bright pottery to pick something extra out for Jerry before we leave.”

  “Yes, you owe him for being your partner in crime, don’t you?” Katherine’s eyes twinkled. She found the previous night’s fight amusing.

  “Jerry has been her partner in crime since they met,” Dad said, following me toward the counter. “Those two got in more trouble than the other four combined.”

  “That’s not true,” I protested, filing into place at the back of the line of shoppers. “I was an angel. You told me so.”

  Dad smirked. “You were my angel … when you were asleep.”

  “Did Aisling get special treatment because she was the only girl?” Katherine seemed legitimately curious regarding the inner dynamics of the Grimlock family.

  Dad shrugged. “According to her mother, yes. According to me, no. I treated them all the same. It’s just … she was somehow cuddlier than the boys, and for a longer period.”

  Katherine bobbed her head in agreement. “Griffin would let me cuddle with him until he was about four. With Maya it lasted a whole lot longer.”

  “The boys were never big cuddlers.” Dad took on a nostalgic expression. “If they got sick or had a bad dream they’d cuddle, but generally with Lily. They liked to sit on my lap when I worked on the computer sometimes, but Aisling would walk into a room and plop herself on my lap no matter what. She didn’t care if I was in the middle of a meeting or trying to sleep.”