He picked up a box of roofing nails and put them in a drawer, then grabbed three more screwdrivers and put them in loops on the pegboard.
At some point he really needed to sort through his tools and get rid of duplicates. It was one thing to have a spare, but at last count, his screwdriver collection had topped twenty. He doubted he needed even half that many.
When the bench was clean, he gave the garage a quick sweep. The Saturday morning weather was perfect. Bright and sunny, with a hint of coolness in the air. With a little luck, he would have a quiet couple of days off and no emergency calls. He would have time to work on the bassinet and get out Christmas decorations. He and Joylyn wouldn’t get a tree for another week or so, but they could do the other decorating. He had wreaths for the door and a Nativity, along with little holiday odds and ends they’d bought together. Maybe he’d show her everything later this afternoon.
If all went well, maybe tonight or tomorrow he could figure out a way to sneak off with Wynn for a few hours. They both seemed ready to take things to the next level, but for that to happen, he wanted more than fifteen minutes up against a wall somewhere. He wanted time and privacy so he could give life to all his Wynn-based fantasies. He wanted to learn what she liked and then do it better than anyone ever had. Sure, a quickie was fun, but not for their first time.
And probably not today, he thought as he put the broom in the corner and grabbed his list for the hardware store.
He was halfway to his SUV when a red 1965 Mustang convertible pulled up in front of the house. The car was beautiful—with new wheels and a glossy coat of paint.
Three young women stepped out, but he barely noticed them. He could see the upholstery was original and he was itching to look under the hood and see what the engine looked like.
One of the women, a pretty brunette in a crop top and shorts, walked up to him.
“Hi,” she said with a wide smile. “I’m Yolanda.”
He looked past her to the car. “That is a beautiful Mustang.”
“Thanks. It’s my brother’s. He lost a bet and now it’s mine for the weekend.”
Garrick glanced at her. “Is he at home crying?”
She laughed. “He is.” She pointed to the other two women. “That’s Joni and Enya. We’re here to see Joylyn. We thought we’d surprise her with a girl party.”
That got Garrick’s attention. He turned to the young women and realized they looked college-age and somewhat familiar. He might have met them at the wedding, he thought.
“I’m glad you made the trip,” he said. “She’s inside.”
The other two turned toward the house, but Yolanda lingered.
“You’re her dad, right?”
“I am.” He held out his hand. “I’m Garrick.”
She shook hands with him, then looked him up and down. “I remember you.”
There was something in her tone that warned him this conversation could go places he didn’t want to go. He deliberately took a step back and pointed to the house.
“She’s that way.”
“Want to get a drink later?”
The direct question surprised him. “No, thanks.”
She seemed more surprised than upset. “You sure?”
“I’m otherwise engaged.”
“Lucky her.” With that Yolanda sauntered to the house, her hips swaying with each step.
Garrick returned his attention to the car, giving it a once-over before retreating to the safety of his SUV. He’d liked it better when all Joylyn’s friends had talked about were horses and their dolls. Not that it was much of a problem for him. He would be happy to spend the afternoon safely in his garage, working on the bassinet and hiding out from the likes of Yolanda. As for any holiday decorating—that could wait until his daughter’s friends were gone.
* * *
JOYLYN SAT AT the table by the pool while her friends relaxed in the chaises. As the afternoon wore on, the three of them got more and more drunk, leaving her feeling like the odd girl out. The initial excitement at having them drop by had faded about two hours ago. Now she was tired, crabby and wishing they would leave.
Enya jumped into the shallow end of the pool, her drink in her hand. “Come on, Joylyn. The water’s fantastic.”
Joylyn shook her head. All three of her friends had great bodies, and while she’d been careful not to put on extra weight, she was still nearly nine months pregnant. No way she was putting on a bathing suit for them to judge her.
Joni, a tall leggy blonde, joined her at the table. She smiled and rattled her vodka-filled glass. “What’s going on with you? You don’t want to swim, you won’t drink. It’s like you’re not one of us anymore.”
Joylyn stared at her. “I’m pregnant. I can’t drink. It’s bad for the baby.”
Joni waved away the statement. “Sure, now they say it’s bad, but thirty years ago, our moms were drinking all the time. I bet in ten years they decide a little alcohol makes everything better for the kid. You can’t take life so seriously.”
Joni leaned close and lowered her voice. “You seeing anyone?”
“What?” Joylyn’s voice was a yelp. “I’m married. And pregnant.”
“I know, but Chandler’s gone. Why not have fun?” Her gaze dropped to Joylyn’s distended belly. “Okay, maybe some guys would be put off by all that, but I’ll bet there are some who think pregnant women are hot. You could look for one of them.”
“Not interested.”
The idea was disgusting. She didn’t want some random guy—she wanted her husband back home.
Joni stretched. “This is nice. The pool and the house. You’ve got a good setup here. Better than at your mom’s. All those kids running around. It was loud, plus your mom never let us drink in front of them. You and Chandler could just move in here. I’ll bet your dad wouldn’t mind. Mooch off him for a while.”
Joni’s phone buzzed. She glanced down and smiled. “It’s this guy I met last week when we went up to LA. He’s an actor and so cute.”
“Are you going to class at all?”
“Ugh. Don’t sound like my mother. I go.” She grinned. “Sometimes.” She shook her glass again. “Sure you don’t want a sip?”
“No, thanks.”
Joni got up and joined Enya in the pool. Yolanda drained her glass, took off her bikini top and jumped into the pool with them. They started splashing each other and shrieking.
Joylyn watched for a few minutes, then got up and went inside. She saw the large bottle of vodka they’d brought with them was nearly empty. How much had they been drinking? And why had she ever thought those women were her friends?
For the thousandth time she wished she’d stayed on base in San Diego. At least the other wives would have understood what she was going through and have given her support. She would have had more things to do than hang out at her dad’s and spend her day making snowmen for a wedding.
“It’s all about the money,” she reminded herself, walking into the family room where she’d set up a card table with her supplies. In the corner was a growing stack of boxes filled with paper snowmen.
She got out everything she would need and prepared to work. Before she started, she sent a quick text to her friend Holly, mentioning Joni, Yolanda and Enya had stopped by, not that she expected a reply anytime soon. It was a Saturday morning. Holly and Rex would probably be doing something together. But eventually Holly would answer and be sympathetic. She’d never much liked Joylyn’s college friends.
She ignored the shrieks from the backyard. In some ways ignoring the noise reminded her of how it had been back when she’d lived with her mom. Her brothers were insanely loud and always getting into something. It was much easier being at her dad’s, she thought. There was always food in the refrigerator and the house was quiet. Plus they were getting along better now. He didn’t act like he resented
having her around. Sometimes he even made her feel he was glad she was here. So why hadn’t he been like that before?
As if he’d sensed she was thinking about him, her dad walked into the family room.
“What are you doing?” he asked, coming to a stop when he saw her. “Your friends are out by the pool.”
She wrinkled her nose. “They’re drunk and talking about people I don’t know and places I haven’t been.”
He pulled up a chair. “You’re just in different places right now. You’re pregnant and married and they’re—” He hesitated.
“Swimming topless in your pool?” she offered.
He winced. “Tell me that’s not true.”
“Sorry, but it is.”
“Damn, and I was going to go sit outside and enjoy the day.”
“You don’t want to see their boobs?”
Her dad grimaced. “They belong to your friends, so no.”
“But other random twentysomething boobs would be okay?”
He chuckled. “Sure. As long as they’re random.”
“Da-ad.”
“I’m a guy. Many of us like boobs. It’s a thing.” He picked up one of the snowmen. “You’re making progress.”
“I know. Hunter made about ten, then decided he didn’t need the money that much. I don’t mind the work. I text Natalie every couple of days and update her on my count.”
“I’m sure she appreciates that.”
A loud burst of laughter had them both turning toward the back of the house.
“How long are they staying?” he asked.
“I don’t know. They’ll want to go out soon enough. When that happens, I’ll tell them not to come back.”
Garrick looked concerned. “You don’t have to do that, Joylyn. They can stick around if you want.”
“It’s not fun for me. I wish I’d stayed on base.”
“You could go visit those friends.”
“It’s too long a drive.”
“What if I took you?” he asked. “You could stretch out in the back of the SUV. We’d stop every hour for you to walk around.”
“Thanks, but no.”
“Then let’s decorate the house later. It’s the Saturday after Thanksgiving, so we need to put up wreaths and stuff.”
He sounded sincere, like he would really do that with her, she thought. This was the father she remembered—the one who took care of her.
She put down the half-finished snowman. “Dad, why did you stop seeing me? Before, I mean. When I was a teenager.”
He stared at her, his confusion almost comical. “We’ve talked about this, honey. I didn’t stop seeing you. You’re the one who told me to go away. You said our weekends were boring and that you had better things to do. You refused to see me for weeks and weeks.”
He was right, she thought reluctantly. That was what had happened. She’d been angry and she’d lashed out. Her mother had talked about forcing her to see her dad, but she never had. Joylyn had been left to make the choice herself, and once she’d turned her back on him, she hadn’t known how to change things.
“You should have tried harder,” she whispered, staring at the table. “You should have made me.”
“Is that what you wanted?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She looked at him. “Then you were gone. I talked to mom about calling you, but you were just gone. You abandoned me.”
“Joylyn, you weren’t abandoned. I was working.”
“Doing what? Why would you disappear for months?”
“The first time was only a few weeks, and I was on assignment.” He hesitated. “I was in a joint task force with the DEA.”
She stared at him, not sure what to think. DEA? As in Drug Enforcement Administration? “Why would you work with them?”
“They were doing some things in the Phoenix area, and I had a little undercover experience. They’d offered me a couple of assignments, but I never took them because I didn’t want to be away from you. When you refused to see me for all those weeks, I finally accepted the job.”
“You worked for the DEA?” she demanded. “Was it dangerous?”
His gaze slid from hers. “I was perfectly safe.”
“You’re lying. You weren’t safe. You weren’t safe at all. You were working for the DEA and you didn’t tell me. That’s wrong, Dad. It’s really wrong.”
“Joylyn,” he began, but she cut him off with a shake of her head.
“No. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to know any of it. You should have told me back then and you didn’t, so I don’t want to know now.” She pointed toward the front of the house. “I have work to do. You need to leave me alone to get it done.”
“I want to talk about this.”
“No. We’re not talking.” She felt the familiar tears fill her eyes. “No talking.”
“Joylyn, please.”
She closed her eyes, willing him to leave. It took nearly a minute, but finally she heard him get up and walk out of the room. When he was gone, she opened her eyes.
More laughter erupted from the backyard. The sound made her feel empty inside. They weren’t her friends, not anymore. She placed a hand on her belly and willed her love to flow to her son.
“We’ll get through this,” she told him. “I’m never going to leave you or let you feel scared. I’m going to take care of you. Your dad will, too. You’ll see, little one. You’ll see.”
* * *
AFTER CHURCH, Wynn changed into old jeans and a T-shirt. She wanted to go through her decorations and figure out what would last another holiday season and what needed to be tossed. While she believed in the magic of a glue gun, sometimes an item was beyond repair and had to be released to find a new life elsewhere.
She walked into the garage and pushed the button to open the big door to give her light and a breeze. At the far end were several shelving units filled with clear bins. All her decorations were stored there, by holiday. The Christmas ones took up two entire shelving units.
She ignored the bins with wreaths and lights. She always checked both at the end of the season, so she knew they were fine. The same with the ornaments. It was everything else that needed to be examined.
She moved her car outside to give herself extra room. As she walked back into the garage, she couldn’t help glancing toward Garrick’s house and smiling. They’d talked the previous evening. He’d phoned close to nine, and they’d stayed up talking until nearly midnight.
Their conversation had started out being about Joylyn’s horrible friends who had finally left around five in the afternoon, but then they’d ended up discussing everything from their favorite subjects in school to how he’d met his first wife. They’d only hung up when both their cell batteries had started flashing warnings about being seconds from dying.
She supposed given that they lived next door and the late hour, she could have suggested he come over. As long as they were relatively quiet, Hunter wouldn’t know—once he was asleep, he was out for the night. But she hadn’t. Some because she didn’t want their first time to be like that and some because the anticipation was really nice.
She pulled out the first bin and opened it. Inside were decorations she put around the house. There were several stuffed Santas in all shapes, sizes and species. She had a cow, a giraffe and a space alien, all in Santa suits. She checked each item to make sure it was still in good condition, then moved on to a bin filled with Jim Shore holiday pieces. There was a small jewelry box tucked in the corner. Inside was a pinecone charm on a chain—something she wore every year at the holidays.
She fastened the chain around her neck, then smoothed the charm with her fingers.
“I’m ready for Christmas now,” she said with a laugh.
Another bin held a half dozen throws in Christmas patterns. At the bottom o
f the bin was a blanket she’d crocheted. It wasn’t especially fancy or even square, but she’d made it herself after Hunter had been born and she’d wrapped him in it over their first Christmas.
That had been a hard time—she’d been so scared. Not just about him but about how she was going to keep him in diapers and herself in food. She’d been too young, too poor and too alone to manage, but she had. How would it be different now?
The question surprised her. Why did it matter? She wasn’t having more children. She was done with that. Hunter was fourteen and she...
She was only thirty-four, she reminded herself. A lot of women hadn’t even started having kids at that age. She was healthy—there was no reason to think she couldn’t get pregnant and have a baby. She certainly had financial resources and a support network beyond what she could have dreamed about the first time around.
Funny how she’d made all kinds of rules for herself when it came to romantic relationships, but she’d never thought about having more kids. Not seriously. But as she turned the idea over in her head, she realized that it wasn’t totally crazy. She liked children. She liked being a mother. She would prefer to have a man in her life, but even if she didn’t she would be fine.
The unexpected line of thought had her shaking her head. She decided to let the idea sit for a while. Later, she would take it out and see how she felt, but for now she still had decorations to get through.
Over the next hour she examined the tree skirt, the silk poinsettias she used to make a display in a fireplace and did a battery count for her flameless candles. She was just putting the last bin back on the shelf when Joylyn wandered into the garage and waved a greeting.
“Hi,” Wynn said. “I’m getting ready for holiday decorating. I like to go through everything to make sure it’s all in good condition, then Hunter and I will start putting things out tonight. What’s going on with you?”
“Not much.” She sighed as she spoke.
Wynn started toward the door to the house. “Come on,” she said. “I made lemonade yesterday, and there’s some coffee cake from breakfast. We’ll be more comfortable in the kitchen.”
Happily This Christmas--A Novel Page 13