Time Out: A Holiday Sports Romance

by Amanda Heartley

  Thirty-Four

  Craig

  “Screw you!”

  She punched me playfully, looking radiant in her emerald green prom dress with the sleeveless top that hugged her glorious breasts, and the flouncy bottom that poofed out to expose her long, heavenly legs.

  “Just kidding,” I said, “But I’d rather call you sis, than nothing at all.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said, her eyes damp in the soft twinkle of lights surrounding us. “This… this isn’t the happy ending I wanted, Craig, but at least it’s not all the way over.”

  I nodded, struggling with my own emotions. On the one hand, I agreed with her. There was something comforting about calling Avery my sister. On the other hand—gross! We peered back at each other, as if having the same disturbing thought before looking away and sighing.

  Dad and his new bride had made their procession down the aisle, sharing a quiet moment with the minister just inside the sliding glass doors before he fled the scene and left them alone to share a soft, loving kiss.

  One by one the guests followed the happy couple inside, leaving the white folding chairs empty on the vast, manicured lawn.

  Above us in the gazebo glowed half a dozen strings of white Christmas lights that matched those wound around the wooden deck railing outside the sliding glass doors and those that sparkled on the giant tree in the living room by the roaring fire.

  Avery looked at me, her face glowing in the lights. She looked more tempting and radiant than ever. Was it because our parents had just married and she was now off limits? Or was it because I loved her—yes, loved her—so much more now that we’d come to know each other so well? Either way, I had never wanted her more, and not just her body. At that moment, I realized what true love was and how caring about someone so much could hurt so bad when that love was taken away from you.

  “We’re happy for them, right?” she said, nudging my shoulder as we watched the guests gather around our parents in the vast living room.

  I sighed, nodding my head. “Of course we are,” I said, leaning against the wide railing at the entrance of the gazebo. “I just wanted us to be happy too, you know?”

  “We still can be,” she said, leaning against the opposite rail. “I mean, just without the happy endings, you know?”

  I smirked, but despite the lightness to her tone I’d never wanted to hold her more. “I don’t care about happy endings,” I said, earnestly, “as much as I do our happy ending.

  “I do,” she said. “I wanted that for us as well.”

  We both sighed quietly beneath the lights. It was hard to believe—impossible, really—that Christmas Eve was finally upon us. Not just the deadline for our romance, but the holiday itself. I’d been so busy focusing on getting Avery back into bed, I’d forgotten about the holiday season. While Dad and I had never been big on celebrating together, watching him hold Avery’s mom near the Christmas tree as friends and family filed past filled my heart with holiday cheer.

  Whatever was or wasn’t to be, I had to give up on the insane idea that, somehow, Avery and I could still be together now that we were related. I’d never have peace otherwise and, after all, wasn’t that what Christmas was about? Peace on earth? Or at least, in my heart? I realized I’d never have peace if I kept wanting Avery the way I used to. I could only find peace, joy and happiness—for us both—if I gave up on the past and embraced the future.

  “No matter what,” I said, reaching for Avery’s hand before pausing with an eye on the guests through the living room windows, “we’ll always be family.”

  She sighed, her hand shrinking from my own as she took an involuntary step away. “That’s what I’m afraid of, Craig,” she said, surprising me. I mean, wasn’t she the one who’d been pressing for us to come to terms with this whole situation all December long? And now, just when I was finally coming to terms with it—she was the one resisting.

  “Come on,” she added, reaching out to me from one step down. “Let’s go help our parents celebrate their big day.”

  “Because we’re happy for them, right?” I added, teasing her with her own words.

  “That’s right,” she said, clutching my hand to help me down off the steps before quickly releasing me. “This is their day, Craig. No matter how we feel about what happened to us, we must be happy for them. At least today, okay?”

  I chuckled. “Aren’t I older than you?” I teased, following her lead as we walked slowly across the red carpet. “So why is my little sister suddenly giving her big brother all the advice?”

  “Don’t you know anything about little sisters?” she teased, turning around with a cocky grin that made me love her even more. “We know everything!”

  Thirty-Five

  Avery

  The guests had finally gone home for the night, leaving our tiny little family alone in the grand living room of the beautiful home Mom’s client had lent her for the wedding. The caterers had left as well, leaving behind a few aluminum trays full of yummy food, which now sat untouched on the dining room table.

  It wasn’t that we weren’t hungry, just overwhelmed. At least, I was. Sitting here, surrounded by my new stepfather on one side and lounging across from my ex-boyfriend slash new stepbrother, the scene was surreal and eating was the last thing on my mind.

  Crying, screaming, yelling perhaps. Pouting, flailing around, stomping my feet—those all took priority over eating now. Not that I’d do any of the above, but still…

  A roaring fire crackled in the fireplace beside the giant Christmas tree towering nearly nine feet above us. Craig had taken off his dark green jacket and rolled up his white shirtsleeves, looking hot with his tie loosened and his face glowing in the romantic firelight. Damn! I wished I could have him again!

  Mom and her new husband sat next to each other—or should I say on top of each other—basking in the glow of their recent nuptials.

  I’d taken off my shoes, tucking my legs beneath me as I sat on a small leather love seat facing the fire. “Go on,” said Randolph, nudging Mom as she sat, still bedecked in her slimming blue dress. “Are you going to tell them, or am I?”

  Craig groaned from his own love seat across from me. “Oh, God,” he teased, shaking his head dramatically. “Not this again.”

  “What?” his father asked cluelessly as Craig and I winked at each other.

  “Oh, nothing,” I teased my new stepfather. “It’s just that the last time you used those words, I got a new brother!”

  We all laughed, the newest family in town, making the best of our quiet Christmas Eve together. “I guess we have thrown you two quite a curveball,” Randolph said, making the understatement of the year. “But we promise, only a few more.”

  “A few?” Craig asked, sitting up. “How much more can we take?”

  Mom waved a dismissive hand. “Come now, Craig,” she said. “We only want what’s best for this family and in that sense, your father and I were talking and well—”

  “How do you like this place?” Randolph interrupted Mom as he sat up toward the edge of his seat. Next to him, Mom shook her head playfully, as if to say, “Here he goes again.”

  I looked around the massive living room, every inch of it decked out—and then some—for Christmas. “It’s great,” I said, missing the point. “I think it was the perfect place for you two to get married.”

  “And it’s so cozy,” Craig added. “It’s a shame we have to leave.”

  Seeing her opening, Mom pounced. “What if we don’t, Craig? What if I told you that, well—”

  “What your mother’s trying to say,” Randolph interrupted again, waving his hand excitedly, “is that she didn’t just rent this house from her client for the night, we bought it!”

  “What?” I asked, sitting up even straighter. “But how? It must have cost a fortune.”

  “That’s just it,” Mom explained, standing abruptly as her new husband watched her every move. It made me wonder if Craig looked at me the same way when I wasn�
��t paying attention. “My client was over-extended on her mortgage, about to lose this house and I stepped in and helped her out.”

  “You mean—” Craig asked.

  “Are you saying—” I said at the same time.

  “Yes,” Randolph answered, standing to join my mother. “It’s ours. All ours. This is where we’re going to be living, kids, so you better get used to it!”

  My mind reeled with the news and my blood ran cold with the implications. “What… what do you mean?” I asked, shaking my head.

  Mom looked down at me, softening slightly. “Well, honey,” reaching over to squeeze my hand. “Part of the reason we were able to afford this home was by cutting out some of the extras from our budget.”

  Mom’s smile was wide, “Such as?” I prompted when she offered no further explanation.

  “Such as room and board,” Randolph explained, coming up beside her and putting a hand on my mother’s shoulders. “To include your off-campus apartment and whatever extras I pay for Craig’s place.”

  “But,” Craig sputtered, shaking his head. “I’m on an athletic scholarship.”

  “A partial scholarship,” his father corrected. “For which I pay the extras like your health insurance, groceries, books and condo maintenance.”

  Craig looked sincerely surprised. “But I thought the college paid for all of that?”

  “They do pay for some, just not all of it,” Mom said, squeezing his shoulder. “Your father just didn’t want to tell you about the rest. Just like Avery, I didn’t want you to worry about your bills. I want you to get an education.”

  “So… so…” I struggled, putting it all together. “I have to start paying for my own apartment?”

  “Not anymore, dear,” Mom said. “Neither of you do because from now on, you’ll be living here with us, rent free.”

  “What?” Craig bellowed, probably louder than he meant to. “Are you serious? What about football? The team?”

  “Of course we are,” Randolph said, sweeping his hand around the vast living room. “There’s plenty of room here so you’ll both still have your privacy and starting January first, we won’t have the added financial pressure of supporting you. And Craig, this shouldn’t hurt your sports stuff anyway. You can still play, you just won’t live there.”

  Craig glowered, fuming silently while I sat there, slumped over in my chair, feeling defeated. We’d both imagined sleeping under our parents’ roof, but that was for special occasions—spring break, a few weeks in the summer, holidays and maybe a birthday or two.

  Not every day!

  But Randolph wasn’t through. “And that’s not all!” he bellowed as I imagined what came next? Craig and I sharing the same room?

  Thirty-Six

  Craig

  I watched Avery’s face transform as she considered the same horror show I did—she and I forced to live our darkest fears by living in the same house with our parents.

  And yet, amazingly, they weren’t through yet! I watched my father approach the Christmas tree with a rakish grin and reach beneath it for a gold foil envelope. “What’s that?”

  Dad beamed. “In all the hustle and bustle of planning this whirlwind wedding,” Dad announced, projecting his voice through the grand living room as if giving a speech at one of his faculty dinners. “I forgot to give my wife her Christmas present.”

  “For me?” Melissa asked, taking the envelope as dramatically as my father handed it to her. “But, honey, I haven’t gotten you anything yet!”

  Dad barely flinched, nodding good naturedly at the envelope still unopened, in my stepmother’s hand. “No worries, my love,” he said, winking at Avery and then at me. “You can buy me a souvenir in the gift shop.”

  My face wrinkled, then Avery’s, then Melissa’s. “I… I don’t understand,” tearing the seal on the oversized envelope.

  “You will dear,” Dad said, the sound of merriment infusing every syllable. “You will.”

  Avery and I inched closer and we all huddled around her mother. The suspense built as she painstakingly opened the envelope and then she screamed “You didn’t!”

  “I did,” Dad said, watching her face explode with joy.

  “But we were just talking about it,” hugging Dad so fiercely the envelope between them crackled and bent. “I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.”

  “GO THROUGH WITH WHAT?!?” Avery and I both shouted at the same time, startling our parents and amusing ourselves.

  Melissa laughed as well, releasing Dad from her bear hug and waving the contents of the envelope in the air. Tickets. They were tickets. For something, it was clear, but what… I still wasn’t sure.

  “What your mother is trying to say,” Dad chuckled, “is that we’re leaving in the morning for a two-week Caribbean cruise.”

  “Tomorrow morning?” I asked.

  “But it’s Christmas,” Avery said, so close our shoulders brushed against one another’s.

  “That may be true,” said Dad, “but it’s also our honeymoon. We’re flying out tomorrow so I booked us a room at the Airport Hilton tonight to celebrate.”

  He and Melissa shared a truly cringe-worthy look that made both Avery and me blanche. “But, Randy,” my new stepmother said. “I haven’t even packed yet.”

  “Better hurry,” said Dad, smacking her bottom, making me and Avery flinch in response. “We can stop by your house to grab a few things and be at the hotel by ten.

  Melissa blushed, nodding and turning to Avery and me. “Well, that settles it,” she said, hugging us one after the other. “I’m off to pack. And then we’re off to celebrate our honeymoon, kids!”

  “Just like that?” Avery asked.

  “Why not?” Melissa asked, squeezing her daughter’s shoulders as they shared a quiet moment. “It’s my wedding day, right, honey? And aren’t you the one who’s always telling me to be more free-spirited and spontaneous?”

  “I guess,” Avery grumbled, making me wonder why she wasn’t happier for her mother—or at least happy that we’d have the place to ourselves for the next two weeks.

  “Then cheer up, buttercup!” Melissa said, her face brightening enough to rival the giant Christmas tree at her back. “This will give Randy and me time to get re-acquainted after the mad rush of all this wedding planning, and while we’re away, time for you and Craig to get better acquainted as well. You can even start moving your things in.

  Her mother turned, oblivious to the changes in her daughter’s face as Melissa and my father raced for the giant door just past the foyer. “Great,” I heard Avery mumble just before our parents rushed out the door and into the night.

  Thirty-Seven

  Avery

  We stood in the doorway, watching both of them giddy with delight as they backed down the long, winding drive in his five-year-old Saab. One minute they were there, waving frantically from the car and in a flash, they were gone.

  Craig and I stood there long after it was clear they’d disappeared. The carefully manicured trees lining the long, snaking drive were lit up, as was the rest of the gorgeous house, with soft white lights. The scene was picturesque and beautiful, making me remember that it was not only a wedding day, but Christmas as well.

  “Come on,” Craig said, perhaps he knew I needed some help to make it through the next few minutes—to say nothing of the long night ahead. “Let’s go inside.”

  “Good idea,” I mumbled, instinctively reaching down to find his big, reassuring hand at his side, so comfortable and familiar, and I held it. And then, halfway through the door, I let it go, realizing we couldn’t share that kind of casual intimacy so quickly, at least not when others may be around.

  Craig stopped dead in his tracks, forcing me to do the same. “Hey,” he said, reaching out to gently move a lock of hair away from my face and behind one ear—another casual gesture of his I’d always enjoyed. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” I barked. “What isn’t wrong?”

 
His face remained calm despite my ire. “Avery,” he said calmly, in a way a parent might speak to a child who’d just missed the ice cream truck, “We knew this day was coming, right?”

  I nodded, my hands over my chest, still looking—and feeling—ridiculous in my evergreen prom dress. “Yes,” I said, all but stomping my feet. “Just give me a few minutes to process the fact that we’re going to be living together from now on.”

  He nodded, nudging my shoulder and reaching out to tug me back into the living room. “It’s a lot to take in, I admit,” he said, sounding so wise and calm, I wanted to punch him in his perfect, smug face. “But we had to face it sometime, right?”

  “I guess so. But, I still hate it” He led me back to the love seat where we were sitting when our parents dropped that other massive bombshell on our already shaky lives. “Every time I turn around, this gets worse and worse.”

  He nodded, standing in front of me while I sat. “I know it seems that way right now,” he said, sounding like an older brother, “but we need to give it some time, Avery. We just need some time.”

  He drifted into the kitchen, just through an open, arched doorway at my back. “So where are you going?” I chuckled humorlessly, spying the caterer’s platters full of food on the dinner table across the room.

  “It’s Christmas.” The sounds of him opening, rooting around and then closing the fridge accompanied his words. “We want to be ready, right?”

  Craig’s words grew louder as he reappeared, a bottle of champagne in one hand—two glasses in the other. His eyes were alive in the warmth of the crackling fireplace and the towering Christmas tree.

  “Nice,” I said, warming to the idea of the big house all to ourselves, a night alone with Craig as we tried to come to terms with not just our relationship—but how it ended.

  “Right?” he said, sinking down across from me and setting the glasses on the table before tearing off the champagne’s wrapper and wriggling the cork from the top. It opened with a quick, refreshing pop as Craig held the cork in one hand and poured with the other. “I mean, look at all this food they left behind.”