Holiday Magic

by Fern Michaels

“Then why were your fingers bleeding?”

  “I just think you need to lighten up.”

  “And you need to step up.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  “You get a limited amount of Christmases on this earth.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you, Nadine?”

  “How many Christmas cards did you send out?”

  “Did you not hear? The planet is going green.”

  “So you’re telling me the only reason you didn’t send out Christmas cards is because you’re going green?”

  “I’m just putting it out there. You can deduce whatever you want.”

  “You really are a New Yorker.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you have an attitude. I’m sorry—but it had to be said.”

  “Because I don’t send out Christmas cards? Manhattan is the center of Christmas! Rockefeller Center, the Rockettes, ice skating—the windows at Saks, chestnuts roasting on every freaking corner!”

  Nadine pointed a slim finger at Tara. “And where are you?”

  Tara looked guiltily around paradise, which in Nadine’s world was not akin with Christmas, then slipped down into her chair. Tara looked sad and unused, like a mother who’d lost her children.

  “I was fired,” Tara said.

  “What?” Nadine’s tone immediately softened. She sat down. “What happened?”

  “Y&S lost the restaurant in Vegas. Alain is staying on as head chef. I told him he was the biggest French baby I’d ever met and that his sauces were flat. So he fired me.”

  “Oh my God. I am so, so sorry.” Nadine started laughing.

  “You find that funny?”

  “You called him a big, French baby?” Tara laughed too.

  “I certainly did,” she said. “But it was ‘Your sauces are flat’ that sent him round the bend.”

  “Did he slam a pot?”

  “Are you kidding me? He was a one-man demonic orchestra.” They laughed again.

  “You know,” Tara said. “It was worth it. Just to see the look on his face.” Nadine reached out and took Tara’s hand.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to spoil your Christmas,” Tara said. After a moment they started to laugh. Nadine wiped tears from her eyes. Tara squeezed her hand. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go make popcorn.”

  “You don’t make popcorn, you pop it,” Nadine answered. But she bounced out of her chair and headed for the kitchen.

  If he’d acted normal the next day, Tara probably would have let it drop. She was no stranger to moody men. He didn’t like her touching his present, he pouted and canceled fling-sex, end of story. She wouldn’t have brought it up; she wouldn’t have pressed, or snooped, or even cared. Much. Sure she would have wondered who sent him the present, why he kept it but didn’t open it, and what was inside. Normal curiosity—but not worth pursuing. But Darren was the one who stirred her like-to-know into a need-to-know. He completely ignored her the next evening at the Island Pole. It hit her, as he passed by without so much as a hello, that she was spending her vacation sticking her hand into an electronic reindeer’s mouth and faux-screaming, just for a few laughs from the locals and the possibility of a fling. Oh, and the orphans, she remembered, she was also doing it for the orphans.

  “We’re going on a family outing,” Tara announced.

  “You’re organizing an outing?” Nadine said. “This I have to hear.”

  “We’re going on a glass bottom boat trip.”

  “That’s actually not a bad idea,” Phil said.

  “Is there a Christmas theme?” Nadine asked.

  “Let’s hope not,” Phil said. Nadine glared at him. He stared back at her. Tara made a mental note of it; normally Phil looked away first. Nadine stroked her flat stomach. Tara wondered, fleetingly, if everything was all right with the baby. She immediately shut the thought out, she didn’t want to jinx anything.

  “Boat,” Tiara said. “Boat!” Tara picked Tiara up and twirled her around the living room.

  “Boat,” Tara agreed.

  “Santa’s boat,” Tiara said.

  “You are your mother,” Tara said. She looked around. “Speaking of mothers,” she said. “Where is ours?” Nadine and Tara stared at their parents’ door, which was still firmly shut at nine A.M. “What time did they get in?” Tara asked. Nadine shrugged. A loud noise came from the patio. They looked out to see their parents, hand-in-hand, trying to right the chair they had just knocked over.

  “All night?” Nadine said. “They stayed out all night?”

  “Are they drunk?” Tara said.

  “Good for them,” Phil said. Their parents looked up, saw they were being watched, and froze in place.

  “They know we can still see them, right?” Tara said.

  “Get a room,” Nadine yelled.

  “Get a room,” Tiara echoed.

  Tara didn’t tell anyone that Darren worked on the glass bottom boat. She also didn’t warn Darren that they were coming. But hadn’t he invited her not so long ago? It was a glorious day for a boat ride. The air smelled like suntan lotion and fish, and pineapples, and of course, coconuts.

  “Dog,” Tiara said, pointing. Sure enough, Dog was sitting at the helm of the boat, greeting tourists.

  “That’s right,” Darren said. “His name is ‘Dog.’” He shot Tara a smug look. At least he was acknowledging her.

  “Yes,” Tara said. “It’s great to have a name that two-year-olds can remember.”

  “Are you coming aboard or are you just here to sink me?” Darren asked. This time he sounded a little hurt.

  “We’re coming aboard,” Nadine said, forging ahead. It was a medium-sized boat with a six-foot pane of glass set in the bottom. The passengers formed a circle around it, and stared down, even though they’d yet to move. Darren laughed.

  “They all do that,” he said. He was a perfect tour guide, handsome and relaxed, and not shy with the microphone. As they eased out into the ocean he mentioned the treats they might see, and he didn’t disappoint. A glittering array of colorful specimens swam beneath them. Passengers oohed and aahed, and pointed. Tara’s favorite were the neon fish, blues and yellows so bright and vibrant, she thought they couldn’t possibly be real, and the giant turtles, gliding gracefully through the water, their wrinkled faces and tough shells persisting from prehistoric times. Nadine and Tiara were equally enthralled with the stingrays. Dog was the only one of them who wasn’t impressed; he was curled up in the corner, and tried to lick an ant that was crawling up the side of the boat.

  When they reached a point far enough out in the ocean, Darren let the boat idle. He stood at the helm, gazing outward. Tara broke away from the crowd, but when she approached, he didn’t even turn and look in her direction. Tara started back to the group. Suddenly she felt his hands wrap around her waist, and he swung her into him. His hip was strong and hard against hers, and his hands felt protective and warm against her back. She wanted to stay like that forever.

  “Wait,” he whispered. “They’re coming.” At first she thought he was joking.

  “Who’s coming?” He put his finger over her mouth. She resisted the urge to kiss it. Or suck on it. That wouldn’t be very proper. Suddenly his finger was gone, and he was pointing. At first all she saw were little gray mounds bobbing in and out of the water. “Dolphins,” she cried. “Dolphins!” She dropped to her knees and leaned over the side of the boat. Darren knelt beside her. The dolphins were only a few feet away, watching them. Tara counted four of them. The other passengers had heard her squeals and gathered behind her. The dolphins put on a show, leaping into the air, flipping, and diving back beneath the water.

  “Oh my God,” Tara said. “Oh my God.”

  “Hold out your hand,” Darren said, slipping a small fish into it. Tara held out her hand, and within seconds a dolphin teetered before her, cooed, and then took the fish right from her hand. Imp
ulsively, Tara leaned forward and kissed the dolphin. Behind her, Tiara squealed.

  “You kissed him,” Nadine said. “You got your fling!” The sisters laughed between them, as only sisters could laugh.

  “Your fling?” Darren said. Was he hurt? They were just getting along again. Tara turned to him. Suddenly, he kissed her.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “Why should the dolphins have all the fun?” he answered. She laughed, and he kissed her again. “I’m sorry about the other night,” he said softly.

  “Me too,” she said. He had a faraway look on his face. “Was the present from an ex-girlfriend?” she asked without thinking. To her surprise he put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer.

  “Flings,” he said, “are supposed to be fun. No serious talk.”

  “So you still want to have a fling?”

  “I promise you,” Darren said. “I’m going to fling your brains out.”

  Chapter 11

  The next day Tara announced that Darren was taking her on a romantic day trip. Nadine was not thrilled.

  “The Road to Hana!” she said. “I want to go on the Road to Hana.” Tara felt slightly guilty. She’d heard the Road to Hana offered jaw-dropping landscapes and soaring waterfalls. It was going to be a day filled with exploring hidden caves, private swimming holes, and hopefully each other. It was definitely not going to be a family trip.

  “Do you even know what the Road to Hana is?” Tara asked. The trip involved driving for hours up a long and winding road that wove high into the mountains. Six hundred curves, and fifty-four bridges. Tara couldn’t wait.

  “I’m up for an adventure,” Nadine said.

  “The winding roads would probably make you nauseous,” Tara said.

  “Why would they?”

  “Because you’re pregnant.”

  “Oh,” Nadine said. “Right.”

  “Besides, I think you and Phil should take a note from Mom and Dad’s book and have a little private family fun. Ask Mom and Dad to watch Tiara for the day.”

  “You’re right,” Nadine said. “Maybe we’ll go on the Road to Hana too.”

  “Go wherever you want,” Tara said. “But if you see us, just pretend like you don’t know us.”

  “Are you going to wear anything but that bikini this whole trip?”

  “No.”

  Darren was a good driver. That wasn’t why Tara was so nervous sitting next to him. His cologne smelled good. After a few minutes of being driven crazy by it, she asked him what it was.

  “Oh, that’s not me,” Darren said, scratching Dog behind the ears. “It’s Dog.” Dog, who was sitting between them in the truck, swung his head toward her, and stared longingly into her eyes. He was even drooling a little. Tara leaned in and sniffed him. Sure enough, Dog was wearing cologne. “He knocked my bottle over this morning,” Darren said. “I think he’s in love.” Tara laughed, and Dog barked. Tara relaxed, and gazed out at the green fields spread before her. Wildflowers flared so bright in the sun, they looked as if their tips had been set on fire. The ocean below them was framed by enormous ragged boulders. It truly was paradise. The road before them was just starting to wind and rise. “It’s about to get really steep,” Darren warned. “But before we go any further, I know a little spot.” He pulled to the side of the road, and parked. “We have to walk from here,” he said. “Are you down with that?”

  “Oh yeah,” Tara said. “I’m down with that.”

  They entered a patch of woods. The shade was soothing on Tara’s hot skin. It smelled like cedar and the ocean. Parrots soared high above, conversing with each other through coded chirps and caws. It reminded her of the other day when she and Nadine had their picture taken with parrots. They were perched on their heads, their arms, and their hands. She loved Hawaii. She couldn’t imagine allowing the pigeons in Central Park to do that.

  It wasn’t long until their path led them to a private swimming hole fueled by a towering waterfall. Tara’s head buzzed from the sheer power of it. There wasn’t another soul in sight. Dog was apparently immune to the awesome beauty, for he simply slipped past them and dove into the water. Tara took off her towel and flip-flops and followed. Soon thereafter, Darren dove in too. The water was warm, and felt like a gentle caress. Tara emerged, and the first face she saw, only a half-inch from hers, was Dog’s.

  “You’re cute,” she said. “But not who I was hoping to see.” Suddenly she felt arms wrap around her from behind. Darren’s mouth brushed her ear.

  “Who were you hoping to see?” She answered by turning around and kissing him. Soon their kisses varied from soft and trailing, to insistent and hurried. Their wet hands groped and slipped down each other’s bodies. Time disappeared, and Tara fully understood why they called Hawaii “The land that time forgot.” The waterfall sealed them in like a privacy curtain. A multicolored parrot screeched good-bye from a branch above them, then darted across the sky. Dog grew tired of his swim and curled up on the shore where he respectfully turned away from them. Without breaking the kiss, Darren swam Tara closer to the falls. Before she knew what was happening, they were under them, water rushing over their bodies. Darren tried to keep the kiss going, but Tara started to sputter. He swam her a little further, so that they were behind the falls, encompassed within the wall of rushing water.

  “Were you trying to drown me?” she joked.

  Darren laughed. “Only so I could give you mouth to mouth,” he said. He leaned in to practice the technique. They kissed for a long time. Then Darren pulled back, smoothed her hair, and wiped water out of her eyes. He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her neck.

  “This is amazing,” Tara said.

  “You’re amazing,” Darren said softly. He moved in again, and this time their kiss took on more fervor, a gentle urgency that kept pace with the fever of the waterfall. Darren lifted Tara onto a large flat rock behind them, and, even though there was barely enough room for the both of them, he laid her down, then gently climbed on top of her. Their hands began exploring and caressing each other. Just as their passion was reaching the point where Tara didn’t want to turn back, Darren pulled away.

  “I didn’t bring condoms,” he said.

  “Talk that love talk,” Tara said.

  Darren laughed. “I want you so bad,” he said. “I was just thinking that our first time should be in a bed with roses and room service. But now that we’re here, and I see how beautiful you look—how incredible it is here—”

  “Shh,” Tara said. She kissed him again. “I can wait,” she said. She pulled back, looked at her wrist as if she were wearing a watch and lunged at him again. “Are you ready now?” She asked. She tickled his neck with her tongue. He tasted like salt and something a little spicy.

  Darren groaned. “I’ve been ready,” he said. “But not now. I’m getting too hot and bothered—time for Plan B.”

  “What’s Plan B?”

  Darren slid off the rock, and grabbed her ankle.

  “Don’t you dare,” she said. He laughed and pulled her in with him. She sunk slightly, then emerged sputtering. He immediately splashed her, sending a wall of water her way. She splashed back. Dog barked from the shore, then jumped in again. They played for what seemed like ages. Tara felt joyful, like a child again. When they finally crawled out, wrapped themselves in towels, and headed back for the truck, it hit her. This was the most fun she’d ever had in her entire life.

  They stopped at a little food stand and bought strawberries, and mango, and kiwis. Then Darren bought the island’s famous banana bread. It was a soft, sweet bite of heaven. Tara was just thinking that her impulse to feed him a strawberry was juvenile when he reached over and popped one in her mouth. His fingers trailed her lips, and when he kissed her, his tasted like sugar. “What’s so funny?” he asked when she laughed.

  “I feel giddy and silly,” she said. Like a teenager in love, she thought. Then they started up the road with Christmas carols playing on the radio, Dog, worn out,
between them, half his body lying on Tara’s lap. New York felt so far away, as did the restaurant, the stress, the fake Manhattan boyfriends. This was a great vacation. But soon it would all be a distant memory. She’d be back in her studio apartment, avoiding Nadine’s questions about how her last date went care of Soul Mate Central, and looking for a job. Maybe she and Darren would e-mail or talk on the phone for a while, but how long would that last? She couldn’t imagine the two of them living in Manhattan; he was the type that needed a lot of space, and very little stress. Her city wouldn’t offer him either. And as much as she complained about it, she couldn’t quite imagine giving up Manhattan. Even for paradise.

  “What are you thinking about?” Darren asked. Tara bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. It had been so long since a man wanted to know what she was thinking about. The sarcastic “what were you thinking?” that she heard from Alain all the time didn’t count.

  “I’m thinking how different my life is in Manhattan,” Tara said.

  “I couldn’t even imagine.”

  “Have you ever been?”

  “When I was a kid,” Darren said. “With my mom.” His hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, his voice deepened.

  “Did you have a good time?”

  “We did.” Again, his tone of voice implied he didn’t want to talk about it any further. Talking about the mother definitely went against fling rules. Although he’d already met her entire crazy family, but not as her boyfriend—

  He wasn’t her boyfriend. He was an island fling. She was going to have to keep reminding herself. If he was her boyfriend, no way would she let him squiggle out of this conversation. But if he didn’t want to talk about a memory, he didn’t have to. So she wouldn’t ask any further. A car was coming in the opposite direction. The tight curve of the road was barely big enough for one. Darren expertly pulled over a half inch, and the other car did the same. They passed with barely a breath between them.

  “I’m impressed,” she said. She couldn’t imagine her father being able to maneuver the van so gracefully. The thought of him trying to floss and take these curves at the same time brought a smile to her face. “My parents are having a really good time on this trip,” she said.