Countdown to a Kiss

by Mara Jacobs

Coming home was always one of Tess’s favorite things, but coming home at the holidays was even better. It was home, it was family, it was familiar…it was comfort.

  Part of the reason was that the house, a grand Southern-style estate, was always dressed to the nines in holiday trimmings. Each year, Mom had a theme to her decor and this year, apparently, it was The Holly & The Ivy, Plus Angels. Glittering red and green holly swagged the front entrance, gold ivy curved around the banisters. Ivy topiaries trimmed with tiny red ribbons and lit by tiny white and green lights sat on the foyer table. A huge glittering tapestry of angels hung on the two-story wall above the table. And she could see a trio of elegant silver celestial beings on the fireplace mantel in the living room.

  “Honey, I’m home!” Tess called gaily, dropping her Balenciaga bag on the floor and poking her head into Dad’s study.

  “Hi, sweet pea,” he said, rising quickly from his desk chair. “Welcome home.” He said the words reverently, as if she’d been gone for years. So he knew. She hadn’t told him much, but somehow he knew.

  They met halfway across the room, and he looked into her eyes as if to take measure of her well-being. Then he pulled her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair like he’d done when she was little. He smelled like her daddy and she inhaled the comfort and familiarity. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Tess had managed to keep it all under control the whole day—while she was at the hospital being Belle, at Birdie’s showing off fancy headpieces, talking to Deanne downtown…but now that she was home, there was no need. To her horror, she felt her eyes begin to sting and she hugged her father tighter. “Thanks, Dad,” she murmured. “I needed that.”

  “I have a feeling you need this too, honey.”

  Tess turned to find her mom coming into the room, holding a big glass of red wine. She took the glass then flowed into another embrace, this time with her petite, familiar-scented mother. “Thanks, Mom,” she said, taking care not to slop what was surely a zinfandel on her mother’s crisp white slacks.

  “You okay?” Mom asked, lifting Tess’s chin even though she was five inches shorter than her daughter. Her gaze delved into hers just as Dad’s had, then she nodded. “You will be.” She gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.

  “I will. I’m so glad to be home for the party tonight. I thought….” Her voice wobbled, but she held it together. “I thought this would be the first year I’d miss it. Ever.” Silly. Stop being such a wuss! Last year was the worst, when she realized she was going to have to divorce Barry.

  But it had taken her almost six more months to make that decision.

  “Sit, Tess. You’ve got about five minutes before Annabelle the whirlwind shows up—and, oh, wait till you hear about that,” Mom said. Her sea-green eyes danced merrily. “She was blazing into town as usual in that little hot rod—and, well…your baby sister’s streak’s been broken.”

  “Really?” Tess asked, a smile tugging her lips. “Annabelle met her match, huh? It’s about time.” She sipped, then hummed with delight at the rich woodsy, berry flavor. “Ah. Thanks. I really did need that. What about Gracie—where is she? Off to Target, shopping for a dress?” Her smile turned into an affectionate laugh.

  “She’s upstairs trying to figure out what to wear,” Dad replied with a sad shake of his head, sipping a rock glass filled with Scotch. Of the entire Devine family, including their patriarch, Grace was the only one who was clueless when it came to fashion and style. If she could, she’d wear jeans and a white t-shirt every day, just for the simplicity of it.

  “She called me, wanting to know when I was going to get here so I could protect her from Belly.” They all laughed together and Tess felt another pang: this one of emptiness and yet comfort, all rolled into one.

  Her parents had been married for forty years, and were still as much in love as they had been when they wed. They were a united front who understood each other, adored their daughters, and yet expected the best from each of their very different offspring. They had each other.

  “Tell us about it, sweet pea,” Dad said, patting Tess’s knee.

  She drew in a deep breath and looked at them both. “Well, it’s been a little rough. The divorce. I mean, for me. Barry’s been his normal self.” She smiled grimly. “But I’m fine. It hasn’t really hit the big press yet—only a few small outlets have picked it up. So some people know, but a lot of others don’t. It probably won’t go big, either, so that makes it a little easier.”

  No one had ever said anything overtly negative about the man she married two New Year’s Eves ago during the party, but she’d sensed the distance between him and her family. And in retrospect, she understood why. They’d seen what she’d been blind to: his condescension, his attempt to control and change her, and, worst of all, his propensity for “mentoring” young actresses. On the couch.

  “The divorce should be final by the end of March, but you know as far as I’m concerned, things have been over for a year. And…I left the show. I’m leaving the theater.”

  There. I said it.

  Mom’s eyes widened. She took Dad’s rock glass from his hand and gulped a big swallow. When she brought the glass away she said, “You’re leaving the theater?”

  “Well, I’m leaving the stage. I’m just not…happy anymore. I know I should be grateful for the opportunity I’ve had, the little bit of success I’ve gleaned—”

  “And your date with Matthew Morrison,” Mom threw in. “He was a gentleman, wasn’t he?”

  Tess gave a short chuckle. “That was pretty awesome. And yes he was—unfortunately. That man is ripped. But there are thousands of young women who’d give anything to take my place onstage. And they probably already have,” she added ruefully. “But—I’m almost twenty-nine, and thirty’s just around the corner. Not old, but—I want a family. A normal life. I thought I was going to be able to do that with Barry, but…yeah. That didn’t work out.”

  “What are you going to do?” asked Dad, just watching her.

  She drew in another breath and smiled. “I’m going to do some producing, actually. Maybe being married to a director gave me the idea; I don’t know. I’ve got some options with a couple smaller shows…in New York, but also in Chicago or Atlanta. You know I’ll be good at that—bossy as I am. And that will give me more time to work with EverFun.”

  “You do enjoy that, don’t you?” Mom said. She didn’t look quite as shocked anymore. “You just light up whenever you talk about all the things you’ve done with that foundation—visiting the children in the hospitals, doing the fundraisers, the media interviews—everything.”

  “You’ll be able to give your name to the Foundation, and that’s good visibility for them,” Dad said. “I think it’s wonderful, sweet pea.”

  “Exactly. So—wait, is that Belly?” Tess stood, looking out Dad’s study window. Sure enough, the bright red sports car was rumbling up the long drive toward the circle. She grinned, suddenly feeling lighter than she had in a long while. “Let’s go hear about the cop who broke her streak!”

  Chapter Four

  New Year’s Eve

  Ten Years Ago

  “Mom’s been bugging me to dance with Lewis Kampmueller,” Tess hissed to Grace, peering around one of the well-lit pillars. Fortunately, the dork was nowhere in sight.

  Grace laughed, tucking her light brown hair behind one ear. “Better you than me!” She smoothed her simple black dress—the one that Tess had tried to talk her out of wearing.

  “You always wear black, Gracie—why don’t you put on something more exciting—like red or blue or even green?” Conscious of her own emerald green gown, Tess looked around and saw her friend, David Grathwold, standing with a group of guys from school. She and David had just finished starring in their high school’s production of Annie Get Your Gun.

  “Black is simple and easy,” Grace told her firmly. “I don’t have time to worry about what goes with what, and whether my makeup matches, and if I have the right shoes like you
do.” Then she gave Tess a shrewd look. “All right, ’fess up. Are you going to kiss David at midnight or what?” Geez. She’d be a great cop.

  “No, I am not going to kiss David. For Pete’s sake, Grace, I kissed him enough during the show, and believe me, it didn’t do a thing for me. It was like kissing a brother—if we had one. Besides, he’s your age—too young for me. I’m more into college guys.” Her attention wafted back to where the man in question stood with his friends. “Johnny Wilder’s looking hot, though. He looks just like a young George Harrison, with those heavy brows and all that dark hair. Too bad he’s too young too. And he’s got a date.”

  “Too bad you dumped Brian last week—’cause if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have to dance with Lewis,” Grace pointed out.

  “You’re right. I should have kept him around for another week just so he could be my date. Right.” Tess shook her head. “He was such a jerk during the show, always so jealous of David, if you can believe it. I was tired of it. And think of it this way: if I had a date, you’d be next on Mom’s list—so you should be grateful for my datelessness.” She smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to find someone here tonight.”

  Grace scoffed. “Yeah, right. Like any guy you choose is going to just jump to attention when you walk by.”

  Tess just raised her brows and looked at her.

  “Well, all right. You’ve got a point,” her sister conceded. “They do tend to notice you. But that doesn’t mean they’d kiss you.”

  “I’ll bet you I can find someone to kiss at midnight. And if I do” —Tess’s grin turned mischievous— “you not only have to dance with Lewis, you have to kiss him.”

  Grace paled, but considered for a moment. “All right. But, you can’t count kissing Dad or any relative. And it can’t just be a peck on the cheek—it’s got to be on the lips. And, if you don’t find someone, you have to kiss Lewis, and I’m going to tell him you have a crush on him. You only have thirty minutes, so you’d better get to work.”

  Tess shuddered at the idea of Lewis thinking she liked him. But the thought of her sister—tomboy Grace who only thought about studying and sports—kissing the bean pole nerd with a huge Adam’s apple made her want to giggle. “Deal.”

  Grace insisted on bringing Annabelle into the fold as witness and the three sisters shook on it. Little did they know a New Year’s Eve tradition had been born.

  “Hey, guys,” Tess said brightly as she wandered up to the group where David stood with his friends.

  “Yo, Tess,” David replied. “What’s going on? Hey, do you think your dad or Mr. K will care if we get a beer from the bar?”

  “If you aren’t driving, I don’t think one beer would be a problem. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all. Just don’t be obvious about it—and don’t let my Aunt Helen see you drinking it.” She looked over the group of guys, searching for a potential midnight kissee.

  Dang. Johnny Wilder was looking pretty hot tonight. She noticed his steel grey eyes and relaxed stance where he leaned against the wall. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with toned biceps that showed through the clinging shirt he wore. Didn’t he know he was supposed to be wearing a suit jacket? At sixteen, he already looked more manly than the rest of them…which was probably why he had a pretty blond date who was shooting eye-daggers at Tess.

  “I think we’re already past one beer,” Wilder drawled in his low voice. “But I wouldn’t mind another one.”

  “All right,” Tess replied, her voice automatically sliding into a matching mellow purr. Too bad he was so young. No way would senior Tess Devine lower herself to kiss a sophomore. “Anyone else want me to snag them a beer?”

  In all, she promised to bring back three. She walked away from the group, trying to figure out how she was going to carry three glasses while finding someone to kiss. She’d taken a few steps toward the bar when a long steel pole shot out in front of her.

  “And just what are you up to, girl?” asked a peremptory voice.

  “Aunt Helen!” Tess tried to avoid the cane wielded by her great-aunt from Maine, but the old lady was too quick for her. She had to grab a table to keep from losing her balance and had barely righted herself by the time the woman placed herself in her path.

  “You’re going to catch your death of cold in that dress,” Aunt Helen scolded, and, to Tess’s acute embarrassment, reached with a claw-like hand to yank the bodice higher. “In my day and age—and it wasn’t all that long ago, young lady, do you hear me?—nice young ladies wouldn’t be caught dead in a dress without a bit of lace there at the throat. Here, let me see. You hold this, Teresa, now, while I find it….” She thrust her shiny cane (a new addition to her aunt’s persona) at her great-niece, and upended her gauche satin pink evening bag onto a table.

  Lipstick, tissues, a plastic coin case, and a little net bag filled with birdseed clunked onto an empty plate. Helen scrabbled through the debris with her curled fingers while Tess tried to think of a way to extricate herself.

  “Aunt Helen, I really appreciate your help, but I need—”

  “Stay right there, young lady. Don’t you be walking off with that cane! I might be an old lady—not that old, mind you, but old enough to get away with whatever I wish, I’ll have you know—and it’s not that I need that blasted thing to get around with—’cause I don’t—but it makes me look old and frail and I have found several other uses for the thing. Ah-ha!” She held up a bit of frilly lace, mussed and crumpled, and most likely smelling of moth balls.

  “Aunt Helen,” Tess said again, more earnestly this time. Ten minutes to midnight. “I need to get back to my—”

  “Here we are,” said her aunt. And before Tess could blink, the old lady was jamming the bit of froth right down the front of her dress.

  “Aunt Helen!”

  “Did you need some help, ma’am?” drawled a voice behind them.

  Tess jerked away and came face to face with Johnny Wilder. Heat swarmed up from her chest, warming her face, as she met his amused gaze with her own. Great. Caught with my great-aunt’s hand down the front of my dress. Perfect.

  Helen jerked her chin up, and Tess noticed the way the termagant scoped him out. “I have everything under control, here, young man. But you can be certain that if I am in need of assistance, I’ll be calling on you.” Her thin lips curved in something resembling a smile.

  Good grief! Was Aunt Helen flirting with Johnny Wilder?

  Tess looked at the clock. Nine minutes. The opportunity to win her bet with Grace was slipping further away.

  “You bet, Mrs. Galliday,” Wilder drawled. “In the meantime, I came to see if I could help you carry those glasses, Tess. We need a fourth one.”

  “I would appreciate that very much.” She glanced at the clock adorning the wall above the deejay, and grimaced at the time. Eight minutes. How was she going to swing this?

  Tess slowed so Wilder walked next to her. Hm. Maybe he could be a candidate. She had nothing to lose (except the bet)…plus she was bold, direct, and used to getting her own way. He was only a young kid—he probably wasn’t all that experienced. He’d probably jump at the chance to kiss Tess Devine.

  She slanted a glance at him. If only he were a couple years older.

  His arm bumped against hers, and Tess took charge. She slipped her hand around his bicep as they walked, leaning slightly into him.

  Wilder glanced down at her, but he didn’t draw away as they walked toward the bar. She noticed the clock hanging on the wall behind the bar. Five minutes. Crap. Grace and Annabelle watched from across the room. Tess looked at them and saw the matching smirks on her sisters’ faces. That was it. Time was up.

  “Hey Johnny,” she said, gently steering him away from the bar.

  He looked down again. “What’s up, Tess? Aren’t we going to get a beer?”

  “I need a favor.”

  “What’s that?” That drawl again—so casual and uninterested.

  She pulled him toward a corner decorated by a ficus adorned with
lights. They wouldn’t be so noticeable here ... but Grace and Annabelle could see them. Tess released his arm and looked up to catch him giving a little wave across the room. To his date. Ugh. She glanced at the big clock. Three minutes!

  No time to lose. “See, I have a bet with my sister that I would kiss someone at midnight. So can you just kiss me real quick and then you can go back to what’s-her-name?”

  Surprise flared across his face and Wilder stared down at her in blatant disbelief. Tess felt her mouth dry. Crap. What if he refused?

  “You want me to kiss you. In front of my date. In front of everyone. So you can win a bet?”

  A flood of heat rushed over her face. Well, when you put it that way….But she wasn’t Tess Devine for nothing. “Yes. Come on, Johnny—it’s just a bet. I’ll explain everything to your date. It’ll be fine.” She flapped her hand.

  Wilder stared at her. She could read the emotions on his face: incredulity and suspicion. “And you think that’ll be okay with Jilly, as long as you explain? You want to ruin the rest of my night? I have plans.” His slow smile indicated just what he had in mind for after the party.

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Johnny. It’s just a damned kiss. For one second.”

  Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The hum of voices rose, and Tess turned just as someone shouted, “It’s time! Get your champagne for the midnight toast!”

  She looked back at Wilder. His gray eyes were cool, and skepticism still showed on his face.

  “Ten ... nine ... eight ... . ” Her dad had started the countdown.

  Tess glanced across the room and saw Grace grinning like an idiot. As their eyes met, Grace used her two index fingers to point excitedly toward Lewis Kampmueller, who stood only yards away. She made smooching motions with her lips and then pointed at Lewis again.

  “ ... Five ... four ... three ... . ”

  Tess swiveled back toward Wilder, who was still looking at her like she’d grown another head. She grabbed his shoulders and yanked him toward her just as the room erupted in shouts, claps, and cheers.