Tangle of Tinsel

by Shyla Colt

  “Have you thought of giving him an ultimatum?” I suggest.

  “If I feel like I forced his hand, it would take the joy from it.” She runs a hand through her hair. “Do I sound crazy?”

  “No. This is how you feel, and that’s okay. I understand why you don’t want to present Dave with an ultimatum, but what about yourself? Set a timeline and reexamine the situation then. It’ll keep you from going crazy, but you’ll know you’ve done something about it.”

  “I like that. I can give it another six months.”

  “Whatever I can do to help you. I’m here at any time.”

  “I know, and I love you for that.”

  We finish our chat, and I suit up to face the cold. I have a pie to make.

  THE NEXT DAY

  Standing outside of Bits and Baubles, I feel a foreboding sense of déjà vu. Silly.

  I open the door and enter. The scent of ginger and molasses waft through the air. The store is full of people browsing, but I don’t see any small, unattended children hellbent on taking me out at the knees. I see two employees, but none are the dark-haired man I was hoping for. Slightly disappointed, I scan the shop for Nona. Near the cookie station, Nona talks with her hands to a Hispanic man with olive skin and wavy dark hair. His square jaw leads down to nicely-shaped lips and large, brown eyes. A prominent nose balances out all the powerful features he was gifted. What the hell is in the mountain air? I’m not shocked to notice a ring on his left hand.

  Nona glances over at me and lights up. “Romy.” She waves me over. “Come and meet Ollie.”

  “Hi.” I smile sheepishly.

  “Ollie, Romy just moved here.”

  “Is that right? It’s nice to meet you, Romy.” His eyes are full of playfulness and mirth. “You should come to the annual Ugly Sweater Party. My wife, Finley, and I go all out.”

  “I wouldn’t want to impose.” People around here are too kind.

  He waves his hand dismissively. “The more the merrier. We have a good time trying to top ourselves every year.” He laughs, a full-bellied, joyful sound that’s infectious and makes me believe his attitude.

  “It’d be a good way to meet more people, and Caleb will be there, so you’ll know at least one person,” Nona says.

  “We can exchange numbers, and I’ll shoot you the invite.”

  I appreciate Ollie’s diplomacy.

  “Perfect. Oh.” I hand Nona the pie dish. “This is for you and your family. It’s a small thank you for everything.”

  “Oh, honey. You didn’t have to do that. You are too sweet.” She pats my cheek.

  “It’s my deep-dish apple pie.”

  “Apple pie is Caleb’s favorite, you know?”

  Ollie coughs to hide his laughter.

  “The thank you was for him, too. So that’s great,” I say, spinning it deftly.

  “I should get back to the house, Nona. We have more decorating and baking to do. Let me give you my number now, Romy. R-O-M-Y?”

  “You got it.”

  He rattles off a series of numbers, and I enter it into the keypad and call.

  “Got it. I hope you can make it. It’s always a good time. I do have to warn you, people take the sweater competition very seriously.”

  “So, I should bring my Ugly A-Game.”

  He beams. “Exactly. I like this one, Nona.”

  “She’s a good egg.” Nona smiles.

  “If she’s got your stamp of approval, I believe it.” Ollie’s fingers fly over the keys. My phone vibrates. I open an invitation with ornaments that spell out ugly. The fabric-covered deer dancing around the phrase ‘Let’s Get Ugly’ makes me laugh. Saluting me with two fingers, he struts out of the store. He has confidence that borders on cocky but comes off charming instead. It makes me want to meet his wife.

  “You have to come over tonight for dinner. We’ll serve your pie for dessert.” Nona claps her hands together. “It’ll be lovely. I wanted you to meet my daughter, Leigh, and my son-in-law, Erik. I have another son, Paul, but his daughter is involved in Christmas activities this year, so we’ve missed their company the past few weeks.”

  Ready or not, here I come, Caleb.

  Chapter Five

  Caleb

  “Sorry, we’re late, Nona,” I call out as I enter the house with Laurene on my heels.

  “We?” she calls. I’m stunned Uncle Paul didn’t rat me out after I showed up with Laurene, who did not enjoy the production, the cold, or anything else.

  “Yes, I had an unexpected visitor last night.”

  Laurene elbows me. I grunt. Hanging up our coats, we step out of our boots and walk into the kitchen dining area. The sight of Romy sitting across from Nona shocks me into stillness. Nona’s lips tighten.

  “It must be in the air. We had a surprise visitor for you, too. She baked us a pie as a thank you, and I figured it was only right she be here to partake in it for dessert with us.”

  “O-Of course,” I agree. Romy is looking anywhere but at me. Son of a bitch.

  “Hey, Mom, Dad, Pop, Nona, you might remember my old friend from New York, Laurene.”

  “Hello.” She wiggles her fingers, and I bite back a groan. I’m in hot water about to boil. This must be what a lobster feels like. “Romy, Laurene. Laurene, this is Romy.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Romy says softly with a smile. I can practically hear the wheels in her head crank. An invisible wall erects before my eyes. The smile on her lips fails to reach her eyes.

  “Likewise.” Laurene wraps her fingers around my biceps, and I tense.

  “There’s plenty of room. Take a seat. We waited for you to arrive before we started serving.”

  “Which means we’re starving, kid. It’s never a good idea to have hangry dinner guests.”

  I instantly grow new respect for my dad’s charm. The only two seats left are beside Romy ... because, why wouldn’t they be? I sit between her and Laurene. Amusement flitters in the depth of my father’s eyes. I glare at him, and he snickers.

  “If we knew you were coming, I would’ve set another plate,” Mom says.

  “That’s okay, Mrs. Miller. Caleb had no clue I was coming to see him. I’ve just missed him so much this past year. It seemed like the perfect gift.”

  “How is the Big Apple?” Dad asks.

  I send him a grateful look.

  Laurene sighs. “Bustling and gorgeous. It’s always decorated so exquisitely this time of year. I think it’s my favorite time in the City.”

  “But not this year?” Mom asks. I saw the look of recognition in her eyes. She knows exactly who Laurene is, and Mama bear mode has been activated.

  “No, there were more important things to consider.”

  Anger flares up inside of me, boiling my blood. I grab my water glass and take a long draw. My face heats up.

  “Hmm.” Over the years, Mom made it clear she wasn’t team Laurene. She wanted to see me happy and in a committed relationship that involved love and building a life. We were anything but that. I’m still trying to figure out why she’s imposed on us at all.

  “What do you do in New York, dear?” Nona asks.

  “I volunteer with several charities.”

  Nona’s eyes widen slightly. “How lovely.”

  “Oh, so you’re one of those girls out there marching and working toward changing unjust laws?” Mom asks.

  I want to slip under the table. My mom, the feminist involved in local politics, smells blood in the water. It’s only a matter of time before she stops circling and goes in for the kill.

  “Oh, no.” She frowns. “I leave that to the experts who understand the ins and outs of legislation. My father’s lawyer genes skipped me, I’m afraid.”

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Dad mumbles.

  “Erik.” Mom’s warning tone earns an eye roll from Dad, who shrugs.

  I clear my throat. “Her father and I worked together at the old firm.”

  “The one that never gave you enough time off to
come home for a decent visit?” Mom asks.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Nona, do you need help bringing out the food?”

  “I sure do, Caleb. Thank you.”

  Springing up like a jack-in-the-box, I stalk to the kitchen like the hounds of hell are giving chase.

  “Looks like you got yourself in a situation.”

  “I swear to you, she just showed up. Texted me from the airport like I’d be happy about it.” I pace the length of the kitchen. “Who does that?”

  “Laurene,” Nona says as she hands me the roast surrounded with potatoes and carrots.

  “Nona, it’s not funny.”

  “No, it’s not. ’Cause Romy was looking forward to seeing you tonight, you know.”

  I stop mid-step. “Did she tell you that?” I can’t keep the hopeful tone out of my voice.

  “Not in so many words, but a woman knows.”

  “I like her.”

  “I’m not the one you need to tell that.”

  “I am so screwed.” I drop my head.

  “Open up the lines of communication. If you didn’t invite her here, there’s no reason for Romy to be upset. At the moment, her head is thinking up worst-case scenarios.” Nona pauses. “Unless you’re interested in Laurene.”

  “I am not.”

  “You should tell her that. The worst thing a person can do is string another one along.” Wisdom given, she grabs the fresh loaf of bread, and I follow behind her. We fall into a familiar rhythm. The hot things go on trivets with serving utensils, and the others go onto the tablecloth. I feel eyes on me the entire time. It takes all my effort not to track them back to their source.

  “This looks incredible, Mom.” My mom gushes over the spread, and Dad and I exchange a meaningful look. The cooking gene skipped my mother entirely. It must’ve all went to Uncle Paul.

  “Thank you, we’ll leave some for Paul and Jen. It’s so sweet that she’s doing the nativity scene all this week. But I sure miss seeing their faces around the table.”

  “They miss you, too, and send their love.”

  “You went to see her?” Mom asked me.

  “Mmm, hmm.” I dish up a slice of roast, potatoes, and carrots. “Yesterday evening.”

  “She was so adorable,” Laurene coos.

  Romy stiffens beside me. I know this doesn’t look good, but it’s nothing like she’s thinking. To her, I’m sure I’m scum for lying and playing with her emotions.

  “Barely made it in time after the impromptu airport pick up,” I say honestly.

  Laurene huffs beside me. “I don’t think Caleb has mentioned you before, Romy.”

  “I’m not surprised since I just moved here a month or so ago.”

  “We had an explosive meeting.” I glance over, willing her to look at me.

  “It was more painful actually,” she deadpans.

  Laughter spills around the table.

  “I feel like I’m missing something,” Laurene says.

  “Just a little Tangle of Tinsel. Isn’t that what we named it?” Romy asks sweetly.

  “Sounds an awful lot better than knocked her noggin and ended up in the hospital,” Pop says.

  “But Caleb was so dashing caring for her,” Nona cries.

  Romy shifts beside me.

  “It was my honor, Nona,” I mumble.

  Laurene clears her throat. “Can you direct me to the washroom, Caleb?”

  “Of course. Please, excuse me.” Standing, I guide her down the hall and step outside onto the back porch. The cold air chases away the stuffy environment that existed around the dinner table. Drinking in the beauty of the land, I admire the snow-coated pines and hills. The view always seemed an equal trade for the overabundance of snow.

  “You coming back inside anytime soon?”

  “Hey, Pop.”

  He steps out beside me. “I told Nat I’d come to fetch you. Your young lady returned to the table a while ago.”

  “I guess I lost track of time out here, and she isn’t my anything.”

  “That’s not the story she’s trying to spin.”

  “She’s not used to being told no.” I scowl.

  “And you’re willing to risk ruining what you have with Romy because of that?”

  “We just met Pop. There is no us.”

  “Humph. When you know, you know. I told Nat I was going to marry her when I was fifteen, and she was thirteen. She laughed at me at the time and said I was talking out of my head. All I knew was I’d never seen a girl as beautiful or sweet. Nat has always cared for people and did everything in her power to make a difference. I wanted to live in her world of light and whimsy.”

  “What the two of you have is rare, Pop.”

  “Rare isn’t impossible.”

  “Romy terrifies me. The way she makes me feel is exhilarating and scary at the same time. Being with her feels right. Her past has made her wary. This whole debacle is going to steal any ground I might’ve gained with her.” I glance up at the night sky dotted by stars. “Still, I can’t help but think she’s worth the struggle.”

  “Sounds like you have your answer already, son.”

  “Yeah, Pop, I do.” I smile. “Thanks for the talk.”

  The door opens, and Laurene steps outside.

  “It’s getting too cold for my old bones. I’ll leave you young people to it.” Patting my shoulder, he slips back inside.

  “Are you hiding?” Laurene asks.

  “Enjoying the view.”

  “You never mentioned there was a new woman in your life.”

  “How could I? You and I never talked. And we just met.”

  “And yet you light up around her in a way I’ve never seen. I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “Like what?” I turn to her, frustrated.

  “Relaxed? Carefree.”

  “Happy. I am with my family in the place I grew up.”

  “No.” She stomps her foot. “It’s more than that. You always carried around a tension that lived just beneath the surface.” She narrows her eyes. “It’s not gone, but it’s decreased.” Her lower lip trembles. “We were good together for a long time.”

  “We were.”

  “Why can’t we be again?” She places her palms against my chest. “Don’t you miss the power and prestige? You can just dip a toe back into life in New York with me while you live here full time.”

  “That’s the last thing I want, Laurene. I left for a reason. I’m happy here. Going back holds no appeal.” I grip her forearms, removing her hands.

  “You just forgot how good we made each other feel. Sex and friendship.”

  Knock, knock. We turn to see Romy peer out.

  “We’re going to have apple pie and coffee if the two of you are interested.” Spinning around, she rushes off.

  I shove Laurene away, and she stumbles.

  “Why are you here, Laurene?”

  “Daddy threatened to cut me off if I don’t settle down,” she whines. “Daddy’s always liked you, and we got along so well, I figured we could just renew our arrangement.”

  “Except I’m not interested.”

  She hisses, “If it wasn’t for her, you would’ve been.”

  “No. We want different things. I’m finished being your smokescreen so Daddy can keep cash in your coffers.”

  “You don’t even care what happens to me, do you?”

  “I get the feeling you’ll be just fine.” Her drama isn’t going to affect me any longer.

  She smooths the hair away from her face. “I can’t go back in there now.”

  “You can do what you want. I never turn down a slice of apple pie.” And I have a woman to explain all this to. Returning inside, my stomach plummets.

  “Where’s Romy?” I glance toward the bathroom.

  “She had to go home,” my mother answers with a tone that implies the word ‘dumbass’.

  “Where’s your guest?” Dad asks.

  “Enjoying the view.”

  I can’t leave things l
ike this. Laurene reenters, and I swear under my breath. Had I been alone, I’d have gone after her.

  THE BROWN SWEATER LOOKS like Candyland threw up on it. Bright-colored ribbons, gumdrops, and candy canes work together with white felt to create a gingerbread bonanza. Ollie gave me so much shit about my cop-out sweater last year I had to come correct this time. Caught between Laurene’s lame come-ons and ignored texts with Romy, my joy flatlined. Seeing the ridiculous picture I make in this getup helps. Running a brush through my hair, I walk from my bathroom and out of my room.

  “What in the name of Chris Kringle are you wearing?”

  “My contest-winning ugly sweater.”

  “Is this some strange Vermont tradition? You dress up, take a selfie, and compete with all your friends?”

  I roll my eyes. “No. I go to a party and try to one-up my friends in person.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders slump. “So you’re leaving?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you didn’t invite me?” Her cheeks pinken, and she scowls.

  “You’re welcome to join me if you really want to, but I don’t think you’d enjoy it, and I’m not planning on babysitting you or leaving early if you get sick of being there.”

  Frowning, she leans back into the corner of the couch. “It would be nice to be asked.”

  “I just did.” Her manipulation is wasted on me, but it’s amusing to watch her try.

  “I do want to go.”

  “I’m leaving here in twenty minutes.”

  She jumps up. I swear she likes the aloof way I’m treating her. If she thinks I’m playing hard to get, she’s bound to be disappointed. Plopping down on my leather sofa, I glance at my phone. Still nothing. How the hell can I set things straight if she refuses to talk to me? I’m trying to give her time and space. Good things are worth the wait. Nineteen minutes later, Laurene strolls in on four-inch heels. Poured into leather tights and a black sweater with a red present on the front, she’s upscale Christmas. Her blonde hair hangs around her slim, oval-shaped face in loose curls.

  “Let’s head out.” I hide my smile as she sniffs. My response was not to her liking. She always needed a ton of praise.

  We don our coats and brave the snowfall to reach Ollie’s. Multicolored ornaments made from ice and food coloring line the driveway and the yard’s perimeter. Large, multi-colored ornaments hang from their awning and circle the tree in the front yard. Their lamppost has been given the candy cane treatment. A Christmas-ornament themed wreath stands out against the front door wrapped like a red present with a green bow.