“You did a beautiful job on the Christmas decorations,” he announced, seemingly changing the subject.
Indy frowned at the diversion but allowed him the easy out. “I wanted everything to be perfect,” she announced and managed a tiny smile. “You know, the way it used to be.”
Flynn nodded and stared at the staircase a moment in silence. “Yes,” he replied softly. “It’s exactly the way it used to be.” He lowered his head and appeared to hold his breath. “And when I walked through the door and saw the decorations ‘the way they used to be’, I remembered how things used to be.” He exhaled and trembled slightly. “Until the one Christmas Eve when they changed forever.” He was again silent.
Indy stared at him, uncertain what to say. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes as thoughts of her mother dying on this very night flooded her memory. Flynn pulled Indy against his side and held her tightly to him.
“I haven’t been able to get your mother out of my head since I returned,” he replied softly without looking at her. “I need time to heal, and that’s all Liz needs to know.”
“I understand,” Indy whispered softly and placed her head on her father’s shoulder while holding back her own tears.
†
Indy entered Harlan’s bedroom just off the family room. She found Harlan comfortably sitting in the easy chair alongside the bed while watching cartoons on the television located within the armoire. His lunch tray set on the table before him untouched. He seemed completely preoccupied with the cartoon. Indy approached him, eyed his lunch tray, and sat on the bed next to his chair.
“Not hungry?”
Harlan didn’t respond and stared blankly at the television. Indy looked at the cartoon he’d been intently watching. The dynamite exploded, blowing the fur off the coyote. Harlan twitched in response but didn’t take his eyes off the television. Indy took the remote control from his hand and turned the channel. He continued to stare at the detergent commercial without acknowledging her. She wasn’t sure if she should be concerned.
“Harlan?”
Harlan finally snapped out of his trance, looked at her, and suddenly grinned boyishly. “Is it bath time?”
His response was moderately disturbing. Out of all the things he could potentially remember, his baths were always the first thing on his mind.
“You have a one-track mind.”
He gave her an innocent look as if not even hearing her comment. “The coyote blew himself up.”
She tensed slightly by the comment. “I saw,” she replied while attempting not to make a big deal out of it. “What are you thinking?”
“He used too much dynamite,” he replied without emotion. Harlan again grinned. “Is it bath time?”
“No, Harlan,” she informed him firmly while summoning her courage. “Not until morning.”
The disappointment clearly showed on his face. “Oh--”
“You weren't hungry?” she asked while indicating the tray.
He didn’t bother looking at the tray and showed little reaction. “The coyote poisoned it.”
“It’s leftover turkey potpie,” she quickly announced and couldn’t help her feeling of surprise by his odd response. “You love turkey potpie--”
As Indy reached for the tray, Harlan suddenly cast the bowl of potpie away from her hand with force and vigor. The bowl flew across the room and struck the wall. Indy jumped with surprise to his outburst and amazing reflexes. Harlan glared with cold eyes that pierced through her.
“I told you, the coyote poisoned it.” His comment was so stern and frightening; it startled her.
“Okay--” she timidly replied, feeling fearful from his aggression for a brief moment.
She wasn’t sure what had set him off, but she was almost certain it had something to do with the explosion in the cartoon. Indy slowly stood and stared across the room at the mess on the floor and wall. She felt Harlan’s fingers touch her bare, lower arm. Indy looked at him with surprise. He stared up at her with a moderately shameful look.
“I'm sorry if I upset you.”
Harlan displayed a glimmer of the man she once knew. Indy smiled and affectionately touched his face while staring into his dark eyes. For a moment, she marveled at how handsome he was. She hadn’t allowed those feelings to surface since the day he married Maureen.
“We'll get through this, Harlan.”
He stared back at her and seemed unusually silent. Something was clearly on his mind, but Indy doubted he even knew what that was.
“Do you love me?” he asked gently.
His words stunned her. Indy slowly kneeled before him and held his fingers exposed beyond his cast.
“Yes, Harlan, I love you,” she said softly while staring into his eyes.
She felt a pang of her childhood crush rushing back to her. The way he stared at her send shock waves of lust through her entire body. Indy tensed slightly then forced a smile and swiftly lightened the mood.
“Do you know what tonight is?”
Harlan suddenly grinned. “My bath?”
“No, it's Christmas Eve,” she informed him while completely ignoring the bath comment. “The guys and a few friends are coming over tonight. We're going to have a really good time.” Thoughts of past Christmas’ when her mother was alive flashed through her mind, filling her with untold joy. She smiled more to herself. “Maybe when you see the commander and your comrades drunk something will click.”
“Is Nala making eggnog?” he suddenly asked.
Indy felt her entire body tense as she stared at Harlan with surprise. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest while tears welled in her eyes. She laughed softly and attempted to contain her tears of joy. He’d remembered her mother’s name!
“Yes, we'll have my mother's eggnog,” she replied while staring at him.
“Nala kissed me under the mistletoe,” he announced matter-of-fact. “Don't tell the commander.”
Although his comment surprised her, Indy held back her tears of joy and sniffed. “It'll be our little secret.”
His boyish grin returned as his eyes lit up. “Will you kiss me under the mistletoe?”
“Yes, Harlan,” she announced almost too eagerly. “I most definitely will.”
His look turned serious. Something seemed to trouble him. “If I forget, will you remind me?”
Indy smiled, threw her arms around his neck, and hugged him. She was overjoyed by the smallest of memory. Harlan made an effort to cling to her despite his casts. Indy lingered in the feeling of his embrace and wished she didn’t ever have to let go.
Harlan gently nuzzled her face with his and sighed softly. “I'm ready for my bath now.”
Chapter Fifteen
It was later that afternoon when Indy had joined her father and Liz in the kitchen to help with the feast for the intimate gathering of friends on Christmas Eve. There was enough food cooling on the counter to feed a small country. Flynn mixed a large batch of eggnog while Liz decorated gingerbread men with artistic flair. Indy arranged cheese wedges on a serving tray as she stood opposite her father at the island counter. It was obvious Flynn had been sampling the eggnog while he prepared the liquid joy. A grin crossed his tough face, giving him an almost boyish appearance as he reflected back to an earlier, more joyful time.
“I remember that Christmas,” Flynn announced cheerfully. “That had to be eight years ago.” He smiled through gritted teeth while looking at Indy. “I remember it distinctly, because I chased Jackson around the house with the broomstick for kissing you under the mistletoe.”
Indy remembered the incident vividly and had a good laugh about it. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t kissed the guys under the mistletoe before.
“I'm pretty sure I kissed Nate and Harlan too,” she boldly announced in Jackson’s defense.
“Maybe so, but I think Jackson kissed you with a little more vigor,” Flynn said firmly.
His memory served him correct, allowing Indy to reflect on that particularly Christmas Eve
with added fondness. A twisted smile crossed her face as she sank into thought.
“Oh, yeah,” Indy announced then chuckled and raised her brows suggestively. “My first French kiss.”
Flynn suddenly glared at her. He obviously wasn’t humored, and eight years wasn’t enough time to heal those wounds. Indy immediately stopped smiling. She didn’t want poor Jackson being struck for no apparent reason the next time he walked into the room. Liz had a difficult time keeping a straight face.
“I know it's just a small memory,” Indy remarked, “but he remembered something, so that's a good thing.”
“Yeah, but why did it have to be kissing your mother?” Flynn sulked and shook his head. “I think I should be a little disturbed by that.”
“I wouldn't worry too much about it, Dad,” Indy announced while remaining cheerful. “A minute before that he was trying to convince me that a cartoon character poisoned his lunch.”
Liz appeared surprised by the comment and suddenly looked at her. “He didn't enjoy the leftover turkey potpie?” she questioned. “But I thought that was his favorite? He had two helpings the other night.”
“It's nothing personal, Liz, I promise,” Indy replied. “Everyone knows you're an excellent cook.”
Liz grinned at the compliment. “Thank you.”
As she resumed decorating the cookies, Flynn looked over her shoulder, appeared serious, and pointed at the colorful gingerbread man in her hand. “I think I know that guy.”
†
A little later, after dinner, Indy entered Harlan’s bedroom while carrying a festive glass of eggnog. Harlan sat on his bedside recliner with the television remote control in his hand. He frantically pressed the on and off button with a vengeance. The television turned on and off with each press of the button, barely keeping up with his rapidly flicking thumb. She gave him an odd look and cast glances from him to the television. The distant look on his face concerned her. She wasn’t even sure if he realized she had entered the room.
“It's not working,” he announced with some agitation, indicating he was aware of her presence.
She attempted to remain calm and pleasant, so as not to agitate him further. “What are you trying to do?” Indy asked gently while watching him.
“It won't detonate.”
Indy set the glass down on the bedside table and watched his repetitive actions with moderate concern. She was somewhat puzzled by the comment.
“Detonate?”
“It should have detonated,” he informed her, his brows knitting heavily with anxiety. “Something's wrong. Someone blocked the signal.”
Indy’s heart sank with understanding. Harlan was reliving some trauma from the explosion that nearly killed him, and it saddened her that she couldn’t do anything about it. She gently removed the remote control from his hand, knelt before him, and caressed his legs. He met her sympathetic gaze and seemed to relax slightly to her touch.
“It detonated, Harlan,” she announced gently. “You saved them all.”
He appeared puzzled. “Saved who?”
Indy attempted a smile and straightened. “Let's change your shirt into something more festive for tonight,” she announced, hoping to change the subject to something more cheerful. “Everyone's excited to see you up and about.” She handed him the glass of eggnog from the bedside table, which he eagerly accepted. “One glass now and one glass later. I don't want the alcohol interacting with your meds.”
Indy turned toward the walk-in closet and removed a Christmas vest and a sporty jacket. She held them up and considered if they matched.
“Oh, damn,” Harlan suddenly exclaimed.
Indy quickly turned away from the closet and looked back at him. Harlan had spilled the entire glass of eggnog on his lap. Indy hurried toward him, removed the empty glass from his lap, and looked at his soaked pants.
“Great,” she muttered softly.
He looked up at her with a serious gaze. “I think I need a bath.”
Indy suddenly shot a look at him as he innocently stared back at her. The look beyond his eyes revealed his more sinister ulterior motive. Her expression suddenly dropped at what she swore was a tiny smirk on his face. She didn’t want to admit that he’d spilled his drink on purpose, but something told her it was no accident.
Chapter Sixteen
The gathering was small and informal compared with the extravagant parties the Stryker’s were once known to host. Those in attendance consisted of Flynn, Liz, Nate, and Jackson. Indy’s friends, Roman and Margo, naturally were present. Liz’s brother, Kale, and a couple of her friends were invited as well. Then there was Nate's girlfriend, more fondly known as ‘his woman in port’, who had arrived for the party. Naturally, Nate’s girlfriend was a raving, blonde beauty in her early twenties with large, bouncy breasts. Her festive, red dress was skintight and barely covered her backside, revealing her long, shapely legs only further accented by her daringly high, stiletto heels. Not too surprising, her name was Candy. Nate’s girlfriends were almost perfect clones of one another, and it was sometimes hard to distinguish one from the other. Usually, they were of the highest maintenance and flashy wardrobe that screamed ‘porn star’. A conversation with one was pretty much like a conversation with another. Although they were never high on intellect, they tended to be bubbly and friendly, making them enjoyable company.
Indy assisted Harlan into the lavishly decorated family room for the holiday gathering. He wore his festive Christmas vest beneath his sporty jacket. Everyone gathered to greet him with Christmas yuletide cheer. Judging by his look, he didn’t recognize anyone, even those he’d seen earlier in the day. He came across as polite but slightly suspicious of those within the room, reinforcing the need for an intimate gathering over the entire town showing for the party. Flynn and Nate helped him to an overstuffed chair and propped his casted leg on an ottoman. As his team helped him get settled, Indy approached the bar and filled a glass with eggnog from the large punch bowl. Jackson approached her and immediately noticed her unusual behavior.
“Is something wrong?” Jackson suddenly asked while studying her. “You look flushed.”
Indy drank the entire contents of the glass and immediately refilled it. Jackson watched her with his mouth partially open. She wasn’t much of a drinker, so her actions were out of the ordinary. Indy glared at Jackson while raising her brows.
“He spilled eggnog on himself and needed to be changed,” she remarked lowly, “--and washed.”
There was an odd silence as Jackson stared at her with surprise. She immediately regretted telling him when she saw him attempting to hide his grin.
“Well, isn't he the lucky stiff.”
She glared at him, immediately wiping the smile from his face. “No pun intended?” she demanded hotly.
Jackson risked her wrath and chuckled. Indy shook her head with disgust.
“I don't care how scrambled his brains are, he did it on purpose,” she announced sternly and took another swallow of eggnog. “He was begging for a glass of eggnog all through dinner and before I got him ready for the party. He knew I'd have to wash him or risk him turning sour.”
Jackson could barely contain his devious grin. “That's Harlan for you.”
“Are you insane?” she suddenly demanded while staring at him. “Harlan never acted like that. He's turning into some sort of pervert.”
Jackson’s look turned serious. “Harlan is extremely intelligent and manipulative.”
“I know, but--”
“But nothing,” he blurted out defensively. “His moral compass is broken. He's just being a guy and acting on instinct. You are aware that guys are horn balls by nature. You went to college.” Jackson casually waved her off. “Sure, he's playing you so you'll play with him, but look at him.” He indicated the cheerful man sitting in the overstuffed chair. “He's happy. Five weeks ago, he was practically a dead man. By all accounts, he should be dead.” Jackson gave Indy a serious look. “And let’s be honest; if I thoug
ht I could con you into a hand job, I'd do it too.”
“That's disgusting,” she scoffed. “You're my friend. Practically my brother.”
“Ah, but I’m not your brother, and I'm still a man,” he announced then tilted his head with a curious look. “Do you think any less of me?”
She frowned in response. “I'm starting to.”
“Personally, I'm thrilled he's plotting ways to get you to manhandle him. It means he's thinking,” Jackson remarked. “Pretty soon he's going to remember things. Once he remembers you, everything is going to go back to the way it was.” There was an uncomfortable pause as Jackson stared at her. “I just hope you'll spare him the embarrassment of what he's done if he doesn't remember.”
She stared at him with a look of annoyance on her face then groaned softly. “God, you're as bad as Margo,” she huffed, “but you're absolutely right.” Indy suddenly grinned with malicious intent. “And if he spills anything else on his lap tonight, the two of you can clean him up.”
Indy patted Jackson's shoulder and walked away.
†
Although not the grand Christmas parties of the good old days, the small gathering was starting to resemble something of a Stryker Christmas party past. Nate was almost always the first one to get drunk and out of hand. Sadly, her father was usually not far behind, although, he managed to maintain a certain degree of discretion that Nate lacked. Indy was usually mindful of Jackson when he started drinking. He would turn up the charm and become excessively affectionate toward her, which usually ended with her father and Jackson getting into a pissing match. In an unusual change of events, Margo struck up a conversation with Jackson, and his attention seemed to focus on her instead. Indy, feeling oddly as if she were interrupting some secret bout of foreplay, slipped away from Margo and Jackson. She joined Roman, who was engaged in a rather heated debate with Nate. She wasn’t sure what the debate involved, but she feared that if Nate became too animated, he might pulverize poor Roman. It wasn’t that she felt any degree of sympathy toward Roman, because he knew the consequences of engaging in any form of controversial debate with a drunken Nate was considered a bad idea. Nate’s girlfriend, Candy, stood idly by and witnessed the ensuing conversation with little emotion. Indy paused alongside Candy and listened to the two men talking loudly in animated discussion.
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