Unwrapped
Page 18
“Thank you, Mona.”
“I believe we gave you a very nice room upstairs.” She pulls out two mugs and fills them with coffee. She walks to the kitchen table, the same one we shared a family meal at last night, and she puts both cups down. “Put on your shirt. I’ve seen enough of your bare flesh to last me a lifetime. Sit down. We need to have a conversation.”
I snap out of my daze, quickly put my t-shirt back on, and take a seat at the table. The coffee is a welcome relief considering the circumstances.
“Are you going to ask me to leave?” I ask.
“And have my daughter leave with you? Right back to that Christmas wonderland you let her decorate? No. I’m not going to ask you to leave, but I do want to know what your intentions are with my daughter.” She pulls her chair out and sits, eyeing me the entire time as she sips her coffee. Relieved at not being kicked out, I relax in my seat and eye her right back.
“I love your daughter. I never intended to—”
She holds a hand up, silencing me. “You know, I didn’t believe you when you first told me that. I believed Miranda when she said she loved you, but I didn’t buy it from you. I figured you saw a young girl and managed to charm her. You’re a good-looking guy, and my Miranda might come off as sassy, but the reality is, she’s sheltered.”
Offended by her words, I put my mug down and look in her eyes. “I have never played with a woman’s emotions, regardless of her age. Please, don’t insult your daughter. The Miranda I know wouldn’t fall for any man’s bullshit.” I pick up my coffee again and sip as I wait for her to continue her attack.
“I said I didn’t believe. Past tense,” she says, dragging the word. “After seeing you here yesterday, I can admit that I was wrong. I watched the way you are with her. I’m no fool. I know what love looks like, so I watched you, and you didn’t even notice that I had my eyes on you. And that’s because you’re always watching her. But it’s the way you look at her when she’s not looking at you that convinced me. Your eyes say it all. And the fact that you are here, spending Christmas with us, wrapping presents, watching Christmas movies says a lot too. So, yes. I believe you love her, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
“My intentions?” I ask before I sip some of the bitter beverage.
Mona nods and sips her own coffee, never taking her eyes off me.
“It means that one day, hopefully sooner rather than later, I’m going to marry your daughter, Mona. When I told you I want us to be friends, I meant it because if I have it my way, I’m going to be a permanent part of your life, and I don’t just mean at work.”
She’s silent as she studies me, her eyes sharp. I can tell she still has reservations about me and that irritates me.
“Are you planning on moving back to Chicago? My son is halfway across the world, and Miranda is my baby.” She leaves the statement hanging.
“No. I’m here for good. I’m not going anywhere.”
For the first time this morning, she smiles. “And what about grandchildren. I want them. Christmas is so much better with a house full of children running around, and you’re not getting any younger.” She laughs at the dig about my age, and at that moment, she reminds me so much of her daughter.
“I’ll give you as many as Miranda wants.” She seems happy with that answer by the way she smiles at me. She lifts her mug, and I lift mine. We bring them together and clink.
“Friends?” I ask.
“Since it looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together, including family vacations, friends,” she confirms.
“Great. Maybe you can spread that news around the office so people can warm up to me,” I joke.
“You got it, and since we’re friends now,” she says. “I have a bunch of presents for the family I still need to wrap. Let’s go get them, and the two of us can get to work.”
^^^
Christmas morning finds me alone in my bed in the upstairs corner of the Moore household. I should be exhausted, but I feel refreshed and full of energy this morning. Yesterday was one of the best Christmas Eve’s I’ve ever had. I spent hours with Mona, wrapping presents while everyone else in the house slept. When they woke up, I ordered breakfast for everyone from a local place and had it delivered.
With Christmas carols playing, we shared a meal and talked about Christmases past. The only downside was that Miranda didn’t sit on my lap while we ate, but it was great hearing stories about her as a little girl.
“One year,” her father says to me, “I think she was about five. I caught her and Andrew under the tree. He was eleven, so he should have known better. I heard him telling her it was okay for her to unwrap a present to see what it was, and that he’d wrap it back for her.”
Everyone laughed at the memory, and Nigel even pulled out a picture. It was a young Miranda with chubby cheeks dressed in Christmas themed footie pajamas. Andrew was wearing the same thing and had a guilty look on his face while he handed her a present.
After yesterday’s breakfast, Mona and Miranda left for several hours to run errands, which gave me time to run my own errands. By the time I got back to the house, the Chinese food was on its way, and Miranda was in the kitchen baking gingerbread men cookies and slicing avocados to make her Christmas guacamole.
I’ve had good Christmases with my mom and uncle, but the Moore’s house was so alive yesterday. The Chinese food was just the beginning. Neighbors and family members dropped by throughout the night, bringing more food with them. The music never stopped, nor did the drinks, which explains the dull pounding in my head now, but I wouldn’t change a second of it. I danced with my girl, kissed her under every mistletoe, was hugged, kissed, and were welcomed by every member of her family, and every neighbor. I don’t know how I ever spent a holiday without Miranda Moore.
She’s happiness and love. She’s the light to my darkness and the balm to everything that ever hurt me. My mother was right. Everything else was preparing me for her.
With a spring in my step I should not feel, I hop out of the bed. After a quick shower, I put on the pajamas Miranda got for me weeks ago and put a small gift in each pocket.
Mona, Nigel, and Miranda are already in the kitchen when I get down there. Miranda, wearing the same pajamas as me, flies into my arms and I welcome her in.
“Merry first Christmas together, baby,” I say as I kiss her forehead repeatedly. “The first of many.”
“Merry first Christmas, Stinky Nicky.” She presses her face to my chest and inhales.
“Still not stinky.” I pull out her present from my pocket and hand it to her. She squeals and rubs her hands together before taking it from me.
“What is it?” she asks, bouncing on her heels.
“Why don’t you open it to find out, gal?” Nigel says. He shakes his head at us while he looks on. Miranda takes the present from me and rips the package open. She opens the box and finds a pair of dangling ruby earrings, shaped like gift boxes. She shrieks in laughter and hugs me. She puts them on and shows her mother.
“I love those,” Mona says. I walk to where she’s sitting and pull another gift out of my pocket and hand it to her. She looks at me but makes no move to take the gift from me. “Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything. Seeing Miranda so happy is enough.” I shake the gift at her, pick up her hand, and drop it in it. She finally smiles and rips it open to find the exact same pair of earrings as her daughter.
She jumps up and hugs me before putting them on. Mona and Miranda put their heads together and I snap a picture of them with my phone.
“Can we have some breakfast before we open the rest of the presents?” Nigel asks. Soon everyone wakes up, including Vanessa and her kids, but Nigel insists everyone eats first, so I get to work.
“Are you going to help me, sweetness?” I ask. I don’t miss her father’s eye roll followed by a snort.
“If sweetness helps, we’ll never get to eat. She’ll only help you by tasting everything. And with a
ll that kissy face you two do, we won’t eat until New Year’s. Miranda,” he says, pointing at her, “you can get the dishes and set the table in the dining room. I’ll help.”
Miranda seems put out by the decree. She puts her hands on her hips and says, “I can cook. Nick, tell him about the pot roast I was going to make for you. And you ate most of the guacamole I made last night, Daddy.”
“Guacamole is not cooking. And you want Nick to tell us about the pot roast you were going to make?” her father asks, looking at me.
“Yeah, she said she was going to make it and came over with all the ingredients, but I’m not sure what happened. Somehow, I ended up making it.”
Nigel laughs and shakes his head. Miranda huffs, but she kisses me one last time before going to the cabinet and taking out a stack of dishes.
CHAPTER 36
MIRANDA
Wrapping paper is strewn all about, and a few kids are in the middle of the mess, having a paper fight. The sun has gone down on what was a beautiful winter day. Soft music is now playing as I sit on the living room couch, both of my legs laying across Nick’s thighs.
“I can literally die after this,” I say as I offer him a piece of the death by chocolate cake I picked up from a local bakery the day before.
“I just found you. No talk about dying. Give me some more, though.” I give him a small piece, but he snatches the plate from me and feeds me instead.
Christmases at home have always been magical. From the family, to the food, to the presents, but this year is beyond anything I ever could have imagined. After a decadent breakfast cooked by Nick, we went to the living room, and I was rendered speechless by the sight in front of me.
“Why does it look like the Christmas tree blew up?” my father asked.
Nick looked at me and winked.
“Did you do all of this shopping yesterday?” I ask.
“On Christmas Eve? No. Those have been at the house all along. I had them hidden in my secret place. I didn’t trust you after I caught you shaking the presents that one time.” I narrow my eyes at him, but then Andrew comes running into the living room with our little cousin on his back, and I forget to interrogate Nick about his secret hiding place.
The next hour is hysteria with presents being opened, but the sweetest moment is when my mom gives an ugly Christmas sweater to Nick for our annual family picture.
“Best Christmas ever,” I whisper right before he feeds me the last of the cake.
“I agree, though I ate way too much.” He pats his washboard abs. I reach over and slyly slide my fingers underneath his sweater. “My trainer’s going to kick my ass in the New Year.”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. And even if you get fat, I don’t care. I’ll still love you. Just don’t get to the point where I have to help you to the bathroom or have to help you bathe.”
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or horrified by that, but I think I’ll go with flattered. You don’t have to worry about that, though. In my old age, I can’t afford to let myself go. Gotta keep my young, hot girlfriend happy and satisfied.”
“When you first met my mom, did you in a million years ever imagine you’d be spending Christmas at her house? You’re going on night number three here, Nicky.”
“No, but then after I met you, I hoped to spend Christmas with you.”
“You know, you didn’t give me any Christmas nookie yet.” I must catch him off guard with that statement because his laugh gets caught in a cough.
“Come home with me, and I’ll give you all the Christmas nookie you can handle. And I can put out those scary pillowcases you gave me.” He pulls me across the couch to his side. I lean into him, his arm thrown casually over my shoulder as I intertwine our fingers.
“The pillowcases are not scary.”
“You know I think you’re gorgeous, but pillowcases with our faces on them are scary, sweets, yet I love them. What I love the most are the pictures you gave me.” The pillowcases were a gag gift, but the real gift was several framed photos of us over the past few weeks.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“Love you more.”
We’re soon interrupted by my mother, who comes running into the living room with my father chasing behind her. He catches her, and in a rare display of affection, kisses her on the lips before walking away from her and taking a seat on the other end of the couch. My mom, who probably has had too much rum punch, giggles like a schoolgirl.
“When are you two going to that fancy spa Nick arranged?” my dad asks, with a playful glint in his eyes. Nick bought me and my mom spa treatments for Christmas.
“Soon. Before we leave for The Bahamas.”
“So, are you going with them, Nick? Get yourself a manicure before your trip?” my dad asks, his eyes full of mischief as he looks at me and Mom.
“Someone messing around with my hands and putting clear polish on my nails? No, thanks. But since I got you two the bottomless mimosas package, I’ll have to drop you off and pick you. Just call me when you’re done.” He picks up my hand and kisses it. My dad looks at me and nods in approval.
“Nick, you and I will get along just fine. Let’s go out back and smoke a cigar. Mona only lets me smoke one time a year.” Dad gets up, and Nick follows him, and I sigh in contentment at the most perfect Christmas.
Nick
“It’s my mom and Becker,” I say as I look at my phone. I accept the FaceTime and smile at my mom.
“Nicky! We miss you guys so much. Ireland is great, but I told Becker I don’t want to travel during Christmas anymore.” Sadie must hear my mom’s voice because she jumps on me and starts to bark. “How’s your Christmas, son?”
“Hi, Allison,” Miranda says, smiling at my mom. “Hey, Becks.”
“Darlin’,” Becker says.
“We’re having a great Christmas. I’m here at Miranda’s house.”
“That’s wonderful, Nicky. We want to have you guys over as soon as we get back,” my mom says.
“Bring the hat, darling,” Becker says to Miranda.
“Oh my God! You should see the hats Nick got me for Christmas. Hold on.” Miranda snatches the phone from me and runs to the other room to her stash of Christmas presents. From my seat on the couch, I watch as she makes Andrew hold the phone as she models each of her new hats. She looks utterly ridiculous since she still has on Christmas pajamas.
“What hat are they talking about?” Mona asks, appearing almost out of nowhere. She cranes her neck as she watches Miranda laugh at something my mother says. “I see she’s already met your mother.” She purses her lips and looks at me, her eyes almost accusatory.
“Once. My mom and stepdad love her.” That appeases her a little bit, but she still continues to watch her daughter.
“You know, Mona,” I say, scooting over to her and putting my arm across her shoulders. “We can have an inside joke too. You did see my bare ass, after all.” She stills, and I expect her to shrug out of my touch, but she turns to me, a genuine smile on her face.
“For the sake of our newfound friendship, please don’t ever mention that again.”
“Deal!”
CHAPTER 37
NICK
Me: I miss having you close by.
Miranda: Patience, Nicky. I’ll be there in ten.
It was only a little over a week ago when we finally got away from the cold and spent five days in tropical paradise. Christmas day with the Moore’s was something I hadn’t experienced in years with my own family. Since leaving for Chicago, I’ve only spent a handful of Christmases at home. The holiday never meant anything to me. Without Miranda, I would have spent the day with Henry and his family or at home watching movies, but she managed to make it magical.
For the next five minutes, I look over the email Uncle Joe sent me. It’s an official proposal that would change the business, but it would mean I would stay on permanently. A few months ago, I would h
ave told him no. Hell, I’ve told him no before, but now it seems like the perfect solution.
Eager to see Miranda, I decide I’ll wait for her by the reception desk. Just as I’m approaching the desk, I stop when I hear my name.
“Mr. Bain looks so tanned. I had no idea he was in The Bahamas. I thought he was down in Florida with Joe, but he walked in here looking refreshed. Did you ever notice how good-looking he is?” I roll my eyes at Sherry’s ranting, but I don’t move from my spot.
“No, Sherry. I don’t look at the boss that way.” I can hear the annoyance in Mona’s voice as I imagine her rolling her own eyes. “The man is allowed to have a vacation.”
“Look at you, defending him. Listen to this. Come closer.” I imagine her waving Mona closer to the desk. “He told me his girlfriend is meeting him for lunch today. That’s why I took my lunch early. I want to see this woman for myself. I bet she’s drop-dead gorgeous. Probably a model. If I were a few years younger and fifty pounds lighter, honey, this girlfriend would have some serious competition.” She lets out a loud laugh as she taps on the desk.
“Sherry, please stop—” Mona starts to say more, but Sherry interrupts her.
“He’s been a lot nicer since he met this girl. You don’t think he gave us Christmas Eve off for our benefit, do you? No, he wanted to spend time with this woman. I should send her some flowers.” She cackles. The elevator door opens, and she shrieks, calling out Miranda’s name.
“Look at you, girl. You look like you got yourself a little tan too. Mona didn’t tell me you went on vacation.” As if everyone is supposed to run their personal time by Sherry. “You’re right on time. The boss’s new girlfriend will be here any minute and we can gossip about them the minute they leave for lunch. By the way, Glen was asking me about you. Give me your phone number so I can give it to him. You two would make beautiful babies.”