“I’d like to send you upstairs for an evaluation,” the doctor said.
“Upstairs?”
“Yes. We have a wonderful staff of psychiatrists—”
“Oh, no,” Tara said. “I don’t need an evaluation. I mean—I don’t know if I’d completely pass it or anything, but I’m not suicidal. I really was bitten by a reindeer.” The doctor made a note in his chart.
“Named Blitzen?” the doctor asked.
“Well—Alfred, really. Blitzen is his stage name.”
“I see,” the doctor said. “And where was Santa when this reindeer bit you?” Tara glared at him.
“Santa wasn’t with them,” she said. “Just Mrs. Claus in overalls.” He made another note in his chart. “Look,” Tara said. “It was a promotional event. In Central Park. They’re from a farm in Wisconsin. A carriage driver told me about them. He said we should be giving Santa cheese.” This little tidbit didn’t seem to win the doctor over. He made another note in his chart.
“I can’t believe they still allow horse-drawn carriages in Central Park,” the doctor said.
“I know,” Tara said. “I for one long to see fuel efficient cars instead.”
“Do you have anyone who can validate your reindeer story?” the doctor asked. “Besides Santa?” Tara called in the representative of the travel agency. He spoke quietly with the doctor. The doctor looked between them for a few minutes. “She sure has been a good sport,” the doctor said. “I was starting to think I had a real whacko on my hands.”
“I can see that,” the travel representative said, looking her up and down.
“I think the least you could do is give the woman a free trip,” the doctor added. Had it not been for the wedding ring on the doctor’s finger, and the fact that he’d come close to having her committed, she would have married him right then and there.
Dearest Friends and Family,
I wish I could write to each of you individually. How I’d love that kind of time! But here’s a quick update, in a snapshot. I lost my bartender-boyfriend and my doorman-boyfriend on the same day. One elf-ed off to Hollywood; the other practically died in my arms. (If I had known he was going down, I like to think I would’ve tried to catch him.) The highlight of my week was being bitten by a reindeer named Alfred slash Blitzen from Wisconsin. But yes, Tara, there is a Santa Claus! Winter Escape Travels (or WET, as I like to call them) is sending me on a twelve-day all expense paid trip to Maui. I am very sorry I will not be there to dumb-down the salad or play the Innkeeper/ Cleaning Lady in “We Will Find You A Room.”
Love,
Tara
Tara reclined her seat in first class, and smiled. She was free. The only thing remotely Christmassy in her bag was the little red bikini she planned on wearing the entire twelve days. Twelve days to forget about everything. Maybe she’d even have a little island fling. That would show Nadine. And since, by definition, flings were supposed to be brief, she would even practice lowering her standards. As long as he was hot.
Chapter 5
Tara looked out the window of the plane as it made its descent into Maui. The sun was bright and welcoming. She could already smell the ocean, and suntan lotion, and the tropical drinks. Any guilt she felt over abandoning her family at Christmas evaporated the moment she felt the Hawaiian air caress her skin. She practically skipped into the airport. She hadn’t checked any luggage, so she was able to go straight to the car rental service. There were only a few people in line ahead of her.
“Tara.” It was a woman’s voice. Tara looked around, despite the fact that the woman couldn’t possibly be talking to her. “Tara!” The voice came from behind her. Tara whirled around. There stood her sister.
“Nadine?” Tara felt her mouth drop open, and she knew she should shut it, but her jaw was on lock-down. Nadine squealed. Then, she threw a red and green lei around Tara’s neck. “Surprise!” she said. She hugged her fiercely. Tara pulled back in time to see her mother and father running toward her. Tara didn’t want to admit it, but she felt slightly embarrassed watching them bounce. Unlike their slim daughters, Nancy and George Lane carried a little extra weight, which was fine, really, at their age they should just enjoy all things in life, but, seriously, they shouldn’t be running in public. Power walking at the mall maybe, but not running in public.
“Mele Kalikimaka!” her mother shouted. She threw her arms up in the air and waved them excitedly. The fleshy backs of her arms continued to wiggle long after her mother stopped moving them.
“That means Merry Christmas in Maui,” her father said. Besides a Christmas lei, he had a camera, and sunglasses hanging off his neck, a laminated map in his hand, and a pencil stuck behind each ear. Tara’s brother-in-law Phil was the last to appear, with Tiara on his hip. She had chocolate smeared on her face, and drool dripping down her chin. They were all wearing red and green leis. Nancy pulled a jumbo bottle of sunscreen out of her purse and shook it at Tara. But before her mother had a chance to open it and slather Tara against her will, an airport cart beeped and pulled up alongside them. It was piled with suitcases.
“What the—” Tara started to say.
“Tara,” Nadine warned.
“Elf is all that?” Tara finished, glancing guiltily at Tiara. Tiara stuck her entire hand in her mouth and smiled.
“I brought all our Christmas decorations,” Nadine said. She jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “Surprise!”
“Why?” Tara said. “What are you doing here?” Tara tried at the last minute to make her voice sound friendly and happy, but from the look on her sister’s face, she knew she’d utterly failed. Nadine put her hands on her hips and waggled her finger at Tara.
“We couldn’t let you spend Christmas alone,” she said. “Not after your”—she glanced at Tara’s bandaged wrist—“incident.”
“It was just a little nibble,” Tara said. “From a reindeer.” Looks were exchanged all around. Even Tiara looked at her with pity.
“We believe you, dear,” her mother said. “But we couldn’t let you have that big bungalow all to yourself.”
“How do you know it’s big?” Tara asked.
“I looked it up online,” Nadine said. “It was obvious after that horrendous Christmas letter you sent out that you needed your family but were too proud to ask.”
“I’m not proud,” Tara said. “I have never been proud.”
“Let’s go,” her father said. “I have a map.”
“Everyone grab as many suitcases as you can,” Nadine said. Nadine heaved what looked like the smallest of the litter off the cart and gestured for the rest of them to dig in. Tara glanced at the car rental counter. Everyone else grabbed suitcases and started to move. Tara stayed in place.
“Come on,” Nadine said. Tara pointed at the car rental. She was going to get something shiny, fast, and red. To match her bikini.
“No need,” Nadine said. “Dad got a family van. You can sit in the back with Tiara. I’m sure you’ll want to spend as much time with your niece as you can.” It was then, as she struggled with three suitcases filled with Christmas decorations, and trudged toward the family van, that Tara realized she should have packed more than her little red bikini. Heat, she realized. She should have packed some heat.
Tara’s head was throbbing. Her father was driving while trying to read the map in one hand and flossing his teeth with the other. Every once in a while the van would drift past the center line; then her father would pull to the right, causing Tara to slide and slam into the passenger side door. The rest of them were too busy singing “Jingle Bells” to be appropriately alarmed. When the singing finally stopped, Nadine started reading her list of “Maui Christmas Events” out loud. There seemed to be something festive going on every single night of the week, and Nadine was acting as if they were going to go to all of the events. Tara was trying to think. Her family was here. Her family had crashed her vacation. Didn’t she have a right to be a teensy, tiny bit pissed? Tara stuck her head out the windo
w, hoping the island air would calm her down.
“Tara,” Nadine said, over Tiara who was strapped in her car seat between them. “Would you rather go Snorkeling with Santa or Parasailing with Santa?”
“It’s so hard to choose,” Tara said. “I had no idea Santa was so athletic.” She didn’t bother to disguise her sarcasm. A fight was coming, and it might as well be now.
“I know,” Nadine said. “I suppose if we cut out of snorkeling early enough we could just make the parasailing session.”
“I was kidding,” Tara said. “I’m not sure I’m going to any of those things.” The chatter in the car suddenly stopped. Her father slowed down and glanced nervously at Tara through the rearview mirror. Dental floss hung from his tooth. Even Phil, who, sitting in the very last seat of the van, had been eerily silent so far, let out a nervous chuckle. His pink buttoned shirt was opened far enough for Tara to see his chest. If she didn’t know better, she would have asked him why he was wearing a sweater. She should buy him hot wax for Christmas.
“I’m with you,” Phil said. He laughed even harder, but stopped when Nadine glared at him.
“Santa, Santa, Santa,” Tiara sang.
“See,” Tara said. She put her hand on Tiara’s little head and gave it a rub. “You have a captive audience right here. You and Tiara can do everything on your list.” She kissed her niece’s soft little head, and inhaled. She loved the scent of baby shampoo.
Nadine threw down her list. “We’re here for you, you know,” she said.
“I appreciate that,” Tara said through clenched teeth. “That doesn’t mean we have to spend every second together, does it?”
“I don’t believe this,” Nadine said. “You’re trying to get rid of us already.”
“No one is trying to get rid of anyone,” their father said.
“Who wants a macaroon?” their mother said.
“I mean, it’s not like I knew you were coming,” Tara said. “Did it ever occur to you I might have plans already?”
“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Nadine said. “There’s room on the list to accommodate everyone. What would you like us to do?”
“Let’s talk about it later,” Tara said. She was going to go straight to the bungalow, change into her bikini, and hit the beach. Then get several tropical drinks. Take a swim. She was not going to start planning Christmas activities.
“I can’t believe you,” Nadine said.
“Excuse me?”
“I knew you were going to act like this. Didn’t I tell you, Phil? Didn’t I tell you she was going to be stubborn?” Tara and Nadine looked at Phil. He pulled his baseball cap over his eyes.
“I’m on vacation,” Tara said. “I’m here to relax. I do not consider running all over the island searching for Santa, relaxing.”
“Santa,” Tiara said. “Santa, Santa, Santa.”
“What could be more relaxing than snorkeling or parasailing?”
“Did it ever occur to you that I’m here as a single woman?” Tara said. She tried to keep her voice down, but she could feel everyone listening to her.
“So now you’re in the market?” Nadine said.
“What?” Tara said.
“I thought you were done with dating.”
“Oh,” Tara said. “You mean ‘on the market’.”
“That’s what I said,” Nadine said.
“No, you didn’t. You said ‘in the market.’ I was like—what does shopping have to do with my sex life?” Nadine clapped her hands over Tiara’s ears.
“Tara!” she said.
“Girls,” Nancy said. “These macaroons are stale. But you should have one anyway. They were on sale.”
“Who said anything about dating?” Tara said, waving the stale macaroon out of her way. “Maybe I’m just going to have a little fling.”
“Fling,” Tiara said. “Fling, fling, fling.”
Nadine snorted. “You couldn’t have a fling if your life depended on it.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re way too picky. By the time the man passed all your criteria, your fling would be flung.”
Just ahead, a beat-up pickup truck was pulled over to the side of the road. A man in Hawaiian shorts was changing a flat tire. A golden retriever watched from the back of the truck, running the small expanse of the cab and wagging his tail. Tara’s eyes trailed to the bumper sticker on the truck. It read:
NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, BUT I’LL SERVICE YOU
Seething from Nadine’s comment, Tara studied the man changing the tire. Just then, he stood, and stretched. He was tall, tan, and muscular. He had a full head of brown hair. He ruffled the dog’s head. Even her mother was staring at him, the macaroon she had been about to bite into frozen in place in front of her lips. He looked like a bum. A hot, tan, beach bum.
“Pull over,” Tara told her father.
“What for?”
“Just do it,” Tara said. “It’s an emergency.” Her father swung the van over like a man having an epileptic fit. The tires screeched. They came to a stop just in front of the pickup truck.
“What are you doing?” Nadine asked.
Tara jumped out of the van. “Lowering my standards,” Tara said. She headed straight for the gorgeous, stranded stranger.
Chapter 6
The man leaned lazily against the back of his truck and watched as Tara approached. Then, he smiled at her. She smiled back, as giddy and nervous as a teenager. The closer she came, the better looking he got. Oh, please don’t be married, she thought. Or a serial killer. A hand clenched around her wrist. The bad one. She screamed. Nadine had a hold of her bad wrist; her mother clutched onto the good.
“Let go,” Tara said to Nadine. “That’s the bad one.”
“What are you doing?” Nadine hissed. Tara glanced at the handsome beach bum. His smile was even wider now. He was thoroughly enjoying the little drama playing out before him.
“I’m helping a stranger in distress,” she said. Their mother leaned around them; if Tara wasn’t mistaken, she was actually checking him out. Tara’s eyes fell to the muscles rippling in his arms, and then lingered on his six-pack abs. She’d never dated a man with a six-pack; she’d have considered herself lucky to find one with just a couple of cans. Half the time her dates looked as if they’d swallowed a six-pack. The man folded his arms across his chest and grinned. The dog barked.
“It could be a trick,” her mother said. Disturbingly, her mother’s gaze also seemed to be lingering on the man’s abs.
“What could be a trick?” Tara said.
“The flat tire,” her mother said. “He could be staging it to lure young girls to the side of the road.”
Nadine put her hands on her hips. “Exactly,” she said. “Exactly.”
“Ted Bundy used the same approach,” her mother continued. “And he was very good-looking too.” The three women glanced at the stranger again. He gave them a nod, and another wolfish grin. I’d definitely lower my standards for him, Tara thought. Maybe even take “Won’t date a serial killer” off the list. She looked at his handiwork. He had the old tire off, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to put the new one on. Tara took out her cell phone and stepped even closer.
“Can I call someone for you?” she said. “Or maybe we could give you a ride somewhere?”
“Tara,” Nadine hissed. “I have a child in the car.”
“No, thanks,” the man said. He spread his arms against the back of the truck as if he had all the time in the world. “I’m late for work.” He whistled, and the dog jumped out of the truck with a Frisbee in his mouth.
“If you’re late for work—isn’t that all the more reason to accept help?” Tara said.
“Not on the island, it’s not,” he said. “Here, a flat tire is the perfect excuse to be late for work. I figure this buys me at least two hours. We’re going to fling the disc around—”
Fling, Tara thought. He said fling. It was a sign.
“Maybe get a beer
and a burger.” He looked at Nadine and winked at their mother. “Besides,” he said. “I wouldn’t go with the likes of you. That’s how Theresa Bundy lured her victims.”
Their mother fell for it. “Who is Theresa Bundy?” she asked.
“Ted Bundy’s sister,” he said, moving closer and lowering his voice to a near whisper. “She was the real mastermind behind all the murders. Sexy broad too. Just like the three of you. Always on the prowl for dudes in distress.”
Their mother looked horrified. Tara laughed. “He’s messing with you, Mother,” she said.
“Mother?” the man said, feigning shock. “That’s just not possible. You’re way too young to be their mother.” Nancy Lane shook her head and laughed.
“Well, dude in distress,” Tara said. “We tried.” He winked at her, whistled at the dog again, and walked toward the beach. He looked back at Tara as if he knew she was looking at his ass. She quickly averted her eyes. Then she looked again, just to prove to herself that she wasn’t looking at his ass, but she wasn’t going to not look at his ass just because he thought she was looking at it. Plus, she had to admit, it was nice to look at.
Unfortunately, Nadine caught her in the act. “Unbelievable,” she said on their way back to the van. “East Coast prude turns into West Coast slut.” Nancy’s head shot up. She looked at the girls, and as they watched, their mother’s cheeks turned bright red. “Not you, Mother,” Nadine said. “Tara. Tara’s the slut.”
“Language,” Tara said. “I have a niece in the van.”
A series of winding roads along the coast finally brought them to the bungalow. Tara felt a twinge of guilt as she took in the sweet yellow house. It was definitely too big for one person. Flowers dotted the yard, and a large palm tree stood guard next to a small patio laden with beach chairs.
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