Christmas Blue at Flynn's

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Christmas Blue at Flynn's Page 10

by Angela Verdenius


  Would Flynn go back home? She’d been pretty steamed yesterday, and he couldn’t say he blamed her, but she’d been so looking forward to this family thing, to having them here for Christmas instead of them all being alone. But now-

  “’Morning,” a sleepy voice cut through his thoughts.

  Smiling, he surveyed the vision leaning in the kitchen doorway. “’Morning.”

  Yawning, Flynn rubbed her eyes. She had on t-shirt and undies and that was it. “Mmm. Is that breaky I smell?”

  “It is.” The toast popped up and he put them onto a plate and handed it to her before putting more toast in the toaster.

  “Thanks.” Buttering the toast, she glanced up at him, a faint pink filling her cheeks.

  So enchanting. He winked.

  She grinned, slathered Vegemite on the toast and crossed to the table, dropping into a chair to munch away happily.

  “So,” he said casually, spooning up some cereal. “What are your plans for the day?”

  “No idea.”

  “Uh huh.”

  Folding a piece of toast in half, she watched Phoebe sitting in front of a now empty bowl washing her face. “Thanks for feeding her. Did she like the dog food?”

  “You don’t feed cats dog food,” Ben replied automatically, buttering his toast. “They have different nutritional needs.”

  “So what did you give her? Grated cheese or something?”

  “I gave her cat food.”

  “Really?” Flynn arched an eyebrow. “You went to my place, braved the horde and got the cat food?”

  “Nope.” He brought two glasses of orange juice to the table along with his toast and cereal, placing a glass in front of Flynn before sitting opposite her. “I had cat food here.”

  “But you don’t have a cat.”

  “Oddly enough, this blue-faced thing keeps turning up at my house.”

  “Aw.” Flynn smiled. “You bought cat food for Phoebe?”

  He nodded.

  “Thanks, Ben.”

  “No worries.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be for long. Just until after Christmas then things will get back to normal.”

  Seeing no need to tell her that he always had cat food in the pantry because Phoebe had been making herself at home in his house and wandering in for a snack whenever she chose to ever since Flynn had moved in next door, Ben simply nodded.

  Voices sounded again, floating over from Flynn’s house.

  He watched her face go blank. Interesting. “So, are you going to ignore them until after Christmas?”

  “That’s my plan.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” Instead of eating, she was now picking at the toast.

  “So Christmas with the family is over.”

  “It never really began.” Pick pick pick.

  Pushing the empty bowl aside, Ben took a drink of orange juice and started on the toast.

  Silence filled the kitchen as he waited. Not for anything would he say-

  “So what do you think?”

  “About what?”

  “My decision?”

  “It’s your decision.”

  Her lips were firmly pressed together as she picked the bit of toast to pieces, the crumbs piling up on the plate.

  He just kept calmly eating.

  Scruff wandered outside, or started to. He stood in the open doorway, half in and half out. Right up until Phoebe walked up behind him, waited, then with an annoyed air she poked him. Scruff jumped and took off. Phoebe washed her paw after touching the dog with it before proceeding out like a queen, head held high, little prance in her step.

  Amused, Ben returned his attention to his pretty companion to find her mussing all that silky hair with one hand while staring at the lace curtain-covered kitchen window that looked out over her house.

  Big blue eyes slid to him.

  Ben raised his eyebrows slightly.

  “So you’re not going to tell me to go over there,” Flynn said.

  He shook his head.

  “And you’re not going to tell me not to go over there.”

  Ben shook his head.

  “So basically you’re going to let me stew in my own juices.”

  “Are you stewing?”

  “Yes!”

  He nodded. There was no doubting that. Flynn was having an internal struggle, but it was one with which she had to come to terms. He’d support her decision but not make it for her.

  A little annoyed, she pushed her plate away, bent her knees, rested her heels on the edge of the kitchen chair and glared at the window. “Give me one reason you refuse to give me your opinion.”

  “There’s a difference between being asked for my opinion and telling you what to do.”

  “Fine. What’s your opinion?”

  “I think you should follow your gut.” He drained the glass of orange juice and picked up the empty plate and bowl as he stood up. “I think you should do what feels right.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head before continuing to the kitchen sink. “You can stay here or go over there, whichever you choose.”

  Flynn muttered something.

  Rinsing the dishes, Ben placed them in the drainer and turned to see her still staring at the window. A glance at the clock showed he had to leave soon. Plucking a ring with two keys on it from the hook inside the pantry door, he set it on the table in front of her. “Spare keys to my house.”

  With a sigh, she tipped back her head to gaze up at him. “What do I do?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Smack you for not telling me.”

  He grinned.

  “Ben.” It came out as a whine.

  “Cute, but no, I won’t tell you what to do.”

  “I thought we were now a couple?”

  “We are.”

  “So as one half, you could tell-”

  “Cute. No.”

  “But-”

  “If we’d made these plans as a couple, we’d discuss it and come to a mutual agreement. These plans were your plans before we became a couple. This is your decision, Flynn.”

  She groaned.

  Bending down, he dropped a kiss onto the tip of her nose. “But what I can do…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is go over there and tell them to leave, then I can go to work and you can do whatever you want.”

  “So you think they should go.”

  “Alternately, I can just go to work and you can surprise me with your decision when I get home.”

  She pouted.

  “Still cute.” Straightening, he patted her head. “Still no.”

  He brushed his teeth, pocketed his wallet and returned to the kitchen to get the car keys. Flynn was, unsurprisingly, still staring at the kitchen window with a frown wrinkled her brow.

  Man, he felt for her. Nothing like getting a family shock to make you rethink your plans.

  “Flynn,” he said gently.

  She looked around at him. “Yes?”

  “You’ll make the right decision.”

  Doubt clouded her eyes. “What if I don’t?”

  “You will.”

  “What if I disappoint you?”

  Crossing to her, he squatted down to take her hands in his. “Baby, whatever you decide is okay by me. These are your family, your plans. Whatever you decide, I’ll be right behind you.”

  Her smile was wistful.

  Hell, he hated seeing her so unhappy. Seeing her usual bright smile and good humour so crushed. “If you want me to tell them to go, I will.”

  She sighed, squeezed his hands.

  “But I won’t tell you what you should do.”

  She sighed again, rolled her eyes, shook her head. “Bugger, Ben, why do you have to be so sensible?”

  “It’s a failing of mine.” He winked.

  Her expression turned rueful.

  “So.” He rubbed his thumbs on the back of her hands. “Want me to tell them to go?”

  “It’s tempting.” Her e
yes got a far away look. “A peaceful Christmas. No rellies.”

  He waited even though the clock was ticking.

  Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek. “No.”

  “Okay.” He pushed to his feet. “I have to go.”

  Getting up, she trailed him to the front door, leaning against the door frame as he stepped out onto the veranda.

  Turning, Ben surveyed her. “By the way, I like the t-shirt and panties ensemble.”

  He was rewarded by the twinkle in her eyes. “Wait until you see my shortie-nightie ensemble.”

  Yeah, he could picture her in that. “Oh boy.”

  “And then there’s just my bra and undies combo.”

  “I might have to call in sick today.”

  “Oh no, if I have to be the grown-up, so do you.”

  “Wow. Does that really work both ways?”

  She laughed.

  Grinning, Ben bent down to kiss her. Deeper. Bit of tongue.

  When he lifted his head, he was running a little hot and Flynn’s eyes had a definite lustful gleam.

  “One more thing,” he said. “Actually, two.”

  “Yes?”

  “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I just want you to remember that.”

  “Huh.” She squinted up at him. “Is that a hint?”

  “Take it however you please. Now, number two.”

  “Yes?”

  “This house is a safe house. No rellies here. It’s for you and me.” He caught sight of Phoebe strolling out to sit beside Flynn and look around. “And Phoebe and Scruff. Safe house. Got it?”

  Flynn nodded.

  “Refuge,” he stressed.

  “Got it.” She saluted. “Sir. Yes sir.”

  “And they say training women is hard.”

  At her outraged gasp followed quickly by a snort of laughter, he winked and left.

  ~*~

  Coming to a decision wasn’t easy, but Flynn did it. These were her family members, she’d invited them here, and she’d give them another chance. After all, tomorrow was Christmas Eve as Ben had pointed out.

  And just how had Ben managed to say so much while basically saying bugger all? The man had hidden depths. But he’d made her sit and think seriously, and she’d come to a decision. Surely the family could all be civil for two more days. She’d talk seriously to them, lay it out. They were all grown-ups.

  Taking a deep breath, Flynn squared her shoulders and walked into the house.

  Correction, her house.

  Following the voices from the kitchen, she came upon Gram and Gramma leaning over the kitchen sink staring through the window at Ben’s house next door. They weren’t even being subtle about it. Gram had the curtain yanked all the way back and the blind was up.

  A quick glance around revealed Sally slumped opposite him, her mobile on the table as she moodily scrolled though it.

  Dax was frowning and taping his fingertips on the table. Today his irises were pale red. Flynn tried not to stare, but really, it was a bit freaky.

  As she entered, they all looked at her.

  “It’s about time!” Gram dropped the curtain.

  “And what,” Gramma demanded, “do you call this?”

  “What?” Flynn asked.

  “You deserted your guests, Flynn. That is not done.” Grammar folded her arms. “Where are your manners? My Felicity brought you up better than that.”

  “My manners?”

  “Yes. First you walked out after that distressing event last night without telling us where you were going-”

  “Even though we knew you were at Ben’s,” Gram inserted.

  “-then you didn’t come home,” Gramma finished. “Not even a phone call. Common courtesy, Flynn.”

  Eyes red-rimmed, Sally sniffed loudly. “And because of you, Sid left me.”

  Flynn blinked. “Because of me?”

  “Yes. If you hadn’t invited us here, he wouldn’t have cheated on me and we’d still be together.” With that, she burst into tears.

  Gram rolled her eyes.

  “Not to mention that we’re the talk of the neighbourhood,” Gramma pointed out.

  Oh crap. “What’ve you heard?”

  “Nothing,” Gram said. “It’s just Linda over-reacting again.”

  “Over-reacting?” Gramma scowled. “The police were called!”

  “I know, Linda, I was there, remember?”

  Reminding herself that everyone was upset and rattled, Flynn spoke quietly. “Now I know this hasn’t all gone as planned, and things have been a little unsettled, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

  “Fixed?” Gramma’s lips pursed.

  “How can you fix me and Sid?” Sally whipped the mobile around so they could all see the screen. “His status has changed to ‘New Relationship’!”

  “He didn’t deserve you,” Flynn replied automatically.

  “I love him!”

  Great. Just great.

  “The least you could do is apologise.” Sally sobbed.

  “Apologise? I’m not apologising. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I wish I’d never come!”

  Geez. Flynn pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “It’s all right, Sally.” Gram flapped a hand. “Plenty more fish in the sea.”

  Sally wailed.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Gramma snapped. Hurrying over to Sally, she hugged her. “It’ll all be okay, dear. You’ll see.”

  Watching them, Gram shook her head. “Personally, I think you did Sally a favour.”

  “Me?” Flynn gaped. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Okay.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Okay.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I said okay! Sheesh.” Gram placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t over-react. You’re just like your grandmother.”

  “Better me than you,” Gramma shot across the room.

  “Maybe if Flynn was more like me, she wouldn’t be so uptight.”

  “No, she’d just be an old bikie mole.”

  Gram’s mouth dropped open. “What the ever-lovin’ freak show do you mean by that?”

  Before the situation could explode, Flynn leaped between them, placing herself between the two women even though Gramma was still beside Sally and Gram was still at the kitchen sink. “Stop it, both of you.”

  There was a definite light of battle in Gram’s eyes.

  “Look.” Flynn took a deep breath. She’d been taking so many lately it was a wonder she didn’t hyperventilate. “I want to talk to you all.”

  “Now you want to talk?” Gramma asked. “Talking would have been good last night.”

  “She’s lucky to get a word in edgewise,” Gram muttered.

  Before Gramma could reply, Flynn snapped, “Everyone shut up!”

  “But I didn’t say anything!” Sally wailed.

  Dax just sat still as a statue.

  “Okay. I’m sorry. You’re right.” Flynn held her palms outwards. “Everyone sit down.” When no one moved, she added, “Please. We need to talk.”

  Gramma sat beside Sally while Gram took a chair opposite.

  Flynn sat down at the head of the table and looked around at them all.

  Everyone was looking back at her with varying degrees of emotions. Sally was still upset and resentful, Gram had that damned raised eyebrow thing happening, Gramma was tight-lipped and Dax - well, Dax just sat there saying nothing, face a blank canvas. A blank, white canvas with pale red eyes.

  “Look,” Flynn said. “I invited you all here for Christmas because we were all spending it alone. I know we’re getting on each other’s nerves a little, it’s understandable in such a small house, but please, can we just make an effort to get along?”

  There was silence around the table.

  “Please?”

  They were all looking at her.

  Flynn waited hopefully.

  Gram shifted a little, exchanged a look with Gramma.

 
; Sally sniffled.

  Dax’s pale red eyes slid around the room.

  No one spoke. But there was a definite atmosphere happening. Not a good one.

  “Um…hello?” Flynn tried a laugh but it dried up quickly when met with stony silence. “Anyone want to - uh - say something?” More silence. “Anything?”

  Movements slow and deliberate, Gramma clasped her fingers together and rested them on the table. “Let me see if I’ve got this right.” There was a definite ominous tone to her voice.

  Frantically searched her memory, Flynn replayed what she’d just said, unable to figure out what had went wrong because sure as hell something had gone wrong.

  “You invited us because you presumed we’d be spending Christmas alone,” Gramma stated.

  Flynn nodded.

  “You say we’re getting on each other’s nerves.”

  Okay, that sounded bad. “Not quite the way I put it.”

  “Oh, you did. Joy?”

  Gram nodded. “She did.”

  “If you thought that,” Sally said, wiping her eyes, “why did you invite us?”

  “Well, I didn’t think then that we’d get on each other’s nerves,” Flynn began. “Of course I didn’t think-”

  “But obviously we’re getting on each other’s nerves now.” Gramma’s voice was chilly.

  “Well…you know. Yes.” At the frosty expressions, Flynn added a little desperately, “Maybe.”

  “No maybe,” Gram snapped. “If we’re getting on your nerves, why don’t you just come right out and say it?”

  “What? Wait, that wasn’t what I meant.”

  “Really? So we’re not getting on your nerves?”

  “Of course not,” Flynn lied while looking Gram right in the eyes. “You’re not getting on my nerves.”

  “But you think we’re getting on each other’s nerves.”

  “Well, it seemed like-”

  “Am I getting on your nerves, Linda?”

  “If you were, Joy, I’d be too polite to point that out,” Gramma replied.

  “Hang on, hang on.” Flynn held her hands up. “This is getting out of hand. I didn’t mean-”

  “Either we’re getting on each other’s nerves or we’re not.” Gramma speared her with a look. “Which is it?”

  “No.”

  “No.”

  Flynn nodded. Shook her head. Getting confused with the correct head acknowledgement, she nodded again.

  “Yet you came in here and accused us of that very thing.” Folding her arms, Gramma leaned back in the chair accusingly.

 

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