Holiday Magic

by Fern Michaels

  “We’re going to cook our own Christmas dinner,” Nadine said. “It’s a family tradition.”

  “Suit yourself,” Darren said. “But the luau is a lot of fun.” He started singing. “Piggies roasting on an open spit, warm air nipping at your nose—” Tara started giggling. Darren plopped next to her and continued singing. “Although it’s been said many times, many ways—luau Christmas, where you always get lei’d.” Tara wanted to roll on top of him and get the luau started. Propriety, and a large dog stopped her from doing so.

  “Maybe we should break from tradition this year,” Tara said.

  “A rebel,” Darren whispered in her ear. “I like that.”

  “Not happening,” Nadine said. Tara opened her eyes, rubbed sand out of them, and heaved the dog off her body. Tara glanced at Phil who was making a sand castle with Tiara. He was on all fours digging furiously, sending sand flying in all directions. He looked as if he were digging an escape tunnel.

  “Why don’t we put it to a vote?” Tara said.

  “What?” Nadine said.

  “Traditional Christmas dinner or luau? We should vote.”

  Nadine’s foot started tapping. “Fine,” she said. “We’ll put it to a vote.”

  Darren’s hand shot up. “I vote luau,” he said.

  In the end, so did everyone else. They even acquiesced when Nadine insisted she was voting for two. Phil suggested they let the baby kick once for yes and two for no, but since the baby wasn’t more than a tiny speck, this was vetoed with a glare. Nadine and the speck voted for the traditional family dinner. Their parents pretended to weigh the decision carefully, then voted for the luau, as if it were a toss up. Well played, Mom and Dad, Tara thought. Well played.

  Phil, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide his joy. He whooped. He shouted. He chanted, “Luau, luau, luau,” until Tiara joined in. Seconds later, he was teaching her to hula dance. On the outside, Nadine appeared to be fine. She even said she was fine. But Tara knew better. Her eyes were wide, her mouth pulled taut. Her skin was stretched so tight across her face, she looked as if she’d had an instant lift. As she looked at her sister, Tara knew her little victory was about to cost her big time. Oh, silent night, Tara thought. Oh, holy night. Nadine was about to declare Yuletide war.

  Fifteen minutes later, and she would have been gone. They might have caught her at home instead, where she would have washed the zinc oxide off her nose and thrown on a nice sundress. Instead, Tara was bent over, picking up her towel, showing off the swimsuit’s ass ruffles, when she heard a woman’s voice.

  “Are you the lady who was bitten by Rudolph?”

  “She is, she is,” Nadine cried. Tara stood, and whipped around. A camera flashed in her face.

  “I’m from Maui Mornings.” A very perky girl with long dark hair was standing in front of her. She held out her hand. Reluctantly, Tara shook it. “You’re like famous around here,” the girl said.

  “I am?” Tara said. For a minute she wondered how they knew about her. Had one of the locals visited New York, stopped in at La Fleur, and came home crowing about her culinary skills? Would they ask her to cook at the luau? It was incredibly flattering. Still, why had she let her mother convince her to wear this hideous swim dress? She should be in her little red bikini. Her nose should be sans-oxide. Her head should not be covered with a tiki hut of a hat.

  “You’re like as famous as that woman who sued McDonald’s for having coffee that was too hot,” the girl said.

  “Oh,” Tara said. Right. The reindeer. Darren chuckled. Tara glared at him. What was he doing hanging around them anyway? The girl continued to snap pictures.

  “Can’t you take pictures of me later?” Tara cried. “You can come over to my bungalow. I’ll answer all your questions.”

  “We don’t really have any questions,” the girl said. “People just want to see what you look like.”

  “But I don’t normally look like this,” Tara said.

  “It’s true,” Darren said. “You should see her in the nude.”

  “Excuse me?” Tara said.

  “I’m sorry,” Darren said. “She had a Santa hat on.” The girl snapped another picture.

  “Write whatever you want,” Tara said. “It’s not my fault I was bitten by a reindeer and offered a free trip. I only took it so my family could have some fun.” She gestured to her chubby parents, her pale, hairy brother-in-law, her anal retentive sister. “This is what Christmas is all about,” she said. “Family.”

  “And to think,” Nadine said. “She didn’t even know we were coming.”

  “What was that?” the girl asked.

  “Of course I knew—”

  “It was my idea,” Nadine said. “We surprised her at the airport.”

  “It’s a good thing too,” her mother said, oblivious to Nadine’s plot to ruin her. “She would have been all alone in that big bungalow.” Suddenly the girl was scribbling down everything they said.

  “I thought you just wanted pictures,” Tara said. She grabbed Tiara and hoisted her up on her hip. “Get a picture of this little cutie,” she said.

  “Is this your daughter?” the girl asked.

  “God no,” Nadine said. “Tara doesn’t want kids.”

  “I never said that,” Tara said.

  “Well, in order to have kids she’d have to find a man first,” Nadine said. “And since bald men and animal lovers are out—”

  “You don’t like animals?” Darren asked.

  “Of course I like animals,” Tara said. “I love your dog. Come here dog. Here doggie.” The golden retriever remained at Darren’s side. Darren chuckled again. It was such a sexy laugh, and Tara was furious with herself that his laugh made her absolutely zing with pleasure.

  “Childless woman wins free vacation and tries to shirk Christmas!” Nadine shouted. Her hands gestured in a wide sweep in front of her. The girl chewed on the end of her pen and glanced up at the sky as if Nadine’s headline were being pulled by a plane. Darren stepped up.

  “Listen,” he said. “Why don’t you just forget about those pictures and the quote. Come over to the bungalow later. Get more of a family feel.” The girl glanced over at their father’s SpongeBob swim shorts.

  “Our readers want the truth,” the girl said. A minute ago they just wanted pictures. Tara wanted to strangle her.

  “It’s Christmas,” Darren said. “Nobody wants the truth.”

  “Sorry. I got what I wanted.”

  Nadine, who had already organized all their beach material, started walking away. “Let’s go,” she said. “Now that we don’t have a Christmas dinner to plan, we’ve plenty of time to devote to the gingerbread bungalow.”

  “If you do this for me,” Darren said. “I’ll give you an exclusive peek at this year’s village. It’s going to be a doozy.” He looked over at Tara, then leaned over and whispered something into the girl’s ear. Her mouth flew open.

  “Really?” she asked Tara. Tara frowned. She glanced at Darren. He gave her a slow smile. Tara’s heart tripped. She didn’t care what Darren told the girl. As long as it convinced the Maui Mornings girl not to print the picture of Tara in her hideous swim dress, she would go along with it.

  “Absolutely,” Tara said.

  “See you at the bungalow,” the girl said.

  True to her word, a few hours later, the girl arrived at the bungalow and re-took the photos. Tara had changed into a sundress and washed the oxide off her nose. Before she left, the girl promised only to print the good ones. It was then, as they gathered on the patio, that Darren told Tara how he’d convinced the reporter to drop the hideous pictures. Nadine was ecstatic over his revelation. At first.

  “You have a Christmas village?” she said. “Really? Really?” Phil looked startled. He hadn’t been jealous of Darren’s good looks, but if the guy was a Christmas nut just like Nadine, then he was going to pose a real threat. Even Tara felt slightly jealous as she watched her sister stare adoringly at Darren.

&n
bsp; “‘The Island Pole’,” Darren said. “It’s a huge hit every year. I’ve kind of got a cult following.” Nadine’s smile faded slightly.

  “The Island Pole?” she said.

  “I go all out,” Darren said. “Lights, displays, characters, the works. You should see my electric bill.”

  “Tiara will go nuts over a Christmas village,” Nadine said. She clapped her hands.

  “Um—she can’t go,” Darren said.

  “What?”

  “It’s rated R.” Phil visibly relaxed. Nadine did not.

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s just for adults,” Darren said. Despite the horrified look on Nadine’s face, a smile remained on his. Once again, Tara was glad nobody knew what his smile did to her.

  “It’s a pornographic Christmas village?” Nadine said.

  “I wouldn’t go that far. More—R-rated.”

  “An R-rated Christmas village?” Nadine spit out every word as if she could barely contain the sounds in her mouth. She folded her arms and stared at Darren as if she could incinerate him with a single look.

  “What does this have to do with me?” Tara said.

  “You my dear,” Darren said, grabbing her around the waist, “are going to be our guest star.”

  “Do tell,” Tara said.

  “The rabid reindeer exhibit,” Darren said. “And don’t worry. You can wear your little red bikini.”

  “Not on your life,” Tara said. “Not on your laid-back little life.”

  Chapter 8

  Nadine was sketching the blueprint to her gingerbread bungalow, her parents were on a walk, Phil was on his cell phone, and Tiara was taking a nap. Tara was contemplating finding a tiki bar. Darren was almost to his truck.

  “You should come to the beach tomorrow,” he called back over his shoulder. “Check out the Santa Sand Sculpture contest.”

  “Santa Sand Sculpture contest?” Nadine said. Her eyes were kaleidoscopes spinning and widening and bouncing color across the patio. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a sand castle building contest,” Darren said. “Except it has to be a Christmas theme.” Tara shot Darren a warning look. He caught it. But instead of dropping the subject, he just grinned. “It’s too bad you can’t participate,” he told Nadine. “It’s a great way to get in the Christmas spirit.”

  “I think we could clear our schedule,” Nadine said.

  “No,” Tara said. Darren leaned against his truck and smiled at Tara.

  “Neither of us have a chance of winning,” he said. “You even have local architects who compete.”

  “Winning isn’t everything,” Nadine said. “It sounds fun.”

  “Oh it is. Tons of fun. But we could make it a little more interesting by placing a little wager of our own.”

  “No,” Tara said. “Absolutely not.”

  “Yes,” Nadine said. “Absolutely yes.”

  “Would Santa approve of gambling?” Tara said.

  “Lighten up,” Nadine said.

  “Great,” Darren said. “Me against you two. We can get some local boys to judge.”

  “You’re on,” Nadine said.

  “No,” Tara said. She grabbed Nadine by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “We’re going snorkeling with Santa,” she said. Nadine wavered. Take that, Darren, Tara thought. You can’t outwit me when it comes to Nadine. “And parasailing,” Tara added. Nadine turned to Darren.

  “Sorry,” she said. “We have other plans.” Point, match, game.

  “Too bad,” Darren said. “If you won, I was going to make the Island Pole rated G this year.” Oh, Christmas crackers. Tara didn’t even have to look at Nadine to know the verdict. Some people were led astray by sin; others got their jollies by hearing the words “rated G.” Besides, she could see Nadine jumping up and down out of her peripheral vision.

  “Yes!” Nadine shouted. “You are on.”

  “If I win, Island Pole stays R-rated, and Tara agrees to guest star in the reindeer exhibit,” Darren said.

  “Deal!” Nadine held out her hand to seal it with a handshake. His golden dog stepped up and gave her his paw. Darren laughed.

  “It’s official,” he said with a nod to his dog.

  “No,” Tara said. “I won’t do it.” Nadine whirled around and pointed her index finger at Tara.

  “You owe me,” she said.

  “How do you figure?”

  “You stole my Christmas dinner,” Nadine said. Tara shook her head. “Please,” Nadine begged. “We can do this. I’m really good at Christmas themes.” Tara dropped her head. Nadine jumped up and down. “You’re on,” she said for a third time. Nadine patted Tara on the back, then squeezed her so hard it hurt. “Practice starts at six A.M.,” she said. “Bring your own bucket.”

  Tara’s dismay over getting up so early was diminished by the spectacular sunrise. She and Nadine had the beach to themselves. They stood in silent awe and watched the red and orange ball slowly peek over the horizon. Tara didn’t get to enjoy it for long. Nadine roped off a section of the beach like it was a crime scene. She took a blueprint out of her bag and unrolled it.

  “When did you have time to do that?” Tara asked. “Were you up all night?”

  “You’ll thank me later,” she said. “What we have here is our own Christmas village. G-rated.”

  Tara peeked at the drawing and groaned. “We can’t build all that out of sand,” she said.

  “Oh ye of little faith,” Nadine said. “Now get your ass down and start digging.” It was useless, but Tara stabbed at the sand anyway. Nadine was having fun, that was all that mattered. Of course when she was standing at a reindeer exhibit at the Island Pole, Tara knew she might not feel so generous toward her sister. It didn’t matter, even if they lost, she wasn’t going to let Darren bully her into volunteering. He was trying to capitalize on her. The nerve. Why were the sexy ones so much trouble? He didn’t even try to hide who he really was. He just laid it all out there, in a cavalier take it or leave it way. As if he didn’t care what other people thought of him.

  That was it. That’s what made him so sexy. Besides the body, and the hair, and those eyes, and lips. He didn’t care what other people thought of him. Tara wished she were more like him. All those years suffering under Alain and Y&S, tiptoeing around them, complimenting them even when she had better ideas for their dishes. Did she once dare to speak up? No. She whipped up concoctions at home all the time that she knew were to die for. But she was too much of a wimp to whip them up at the restaurant. If it were Darren he probably would have just done it. Rebelled. They probably would have fired her. Which they did anyway. And she never even had a chance to see how her recipes would have been received.

  “I’m so jealous,” Nadine said. “He’s totally gorgeous.” Startled, Tara looked up. As far as she could tell, Nadine was making a little snowman, but it was hard to tell. So far, Tara had dug a small hole, and Nadine had made a round ball.

  “Who?”

  Nadine hit Tara with her yellow plastic shovel. “Who?” she mocked. “God, you are so, so lucky.”

  “Is that supposed to be a snowman?”

  “What else?”

  “You only made two balls. Aren’t you supposed to have three?”

  “The way you two look at each other. It’s electric.”

  Tara poured water into her hole. She dove two fingers into it. “Santa’s swamp,” she said.

  “God, I love the beginning of a relationship. Sexual tension. Heart pounding. A single look between you that says—‘If we were alone right now our clothes would disintegrate from the heat we’re generating.’”

  “Nadine,” Tara said. “Is everything okay with you and Phil?” Nadine jabbed her shovel at Tara.

  “You are sleeping with him,” she said. “Do you understand me? You are going to sleep with that man. If you don’t—you’ll regret it the rest of your life.” Tara stared at the tiny ball Nadine was making now.

  “Is that another snowman?”

>   “What is your problem?” Nadine said. “It’s a freaking elf.”

  Two hours into the practice they were both exhausted. Their North Pole was in need of an “Extreme Makeover Castle Edition.”

  “He said the judges would be local boys, didn’t he?” Nadine asked Tara. Tara nodded.

  “New plan,” Nadine said, throwing down her shovel.

  They went shopping. Tara bought a little red bikini. Nadine bought a green one. They wore them with matching heels, carried mistletoe, and flirted with the three male judges. It was working like a charm; the local boys were flirting right back. And although they couldn’t see what he was doing because he’d erected a mini-tent over his sculpture, Darren was definitely distracted as well. Every so often his head would pop out, and he’d look at the sad little village they were constructing, then look suspiciously at the judges who at times appeared to be literally drooling, then linger on Tara’s body, then pop back into his tent with a semi-scowl. The dog, meanwhile, was happy to sit in-between the two stations, his tail every once in a while threatening to take out a deformed sand-elf.

  “I’ve been thinking about the restaurant,” Tara said. “I should’ve taken more chances.” The sand-chimney on Santa’s house sagged and then toppled over. One of the judges took their picture. Nadine and Tara flashed seductive smiles at the camera.

  “We are so going to win,” Nadine said without moving her lips or breaking her smile.

  “Totally,” Tara said back. They glanced over at their parents who were playing at the edge of the ocean with Tiara. Phil was behind them, a cell phone surgically attached to his ear.

  “Who is he talking to at this hour of the morning?” Nadine said. Tara was wondering the same thing.

  “It has to be innocent,” Tara said. “He’s talking right in front of Mom and Dad.”

  “Of course it’s innocent. Why wouldn’t it be—” Nadine cut herself off. “You mean an affair?” she said, as if she’d never considered the possibility. “You think Phil is having an affair?” The judges stopped laughing and stared at Tara. Darren popped his head out. Even the dog’s tail froze mid-whap.