Page 9 of A Perfect Holiday
“Brax gave me these chocolate chip cookies for y’all.”
I took them. Hmmm, comfort food. There was no hiding from the all-seeing tripdar. I got a plate down and had already brewed a pot of coffee.
We sat down on the couch and River launched right in. “So, I’m sure you know what I’m going to ask.”
“Santa and elf outfits. You want me to make them.”
“Yes, can you?”
“Yes, of course, I can. The problem will be our Outlaws duking it out for St. Nick.”
“Braxton keeps walking around the house ho, ho, hoing and saying he knows how jiggly a bowl full of jelly is. He’s a chef.”
“So that makes him the logical choice,” Aubree said, reaching for a cookie. “Ha! Booker says he knows all there is to know about Santa, and that makes him the best choice.”
“Yeesh,” I said, relaxing into the humor of the situation, even with the heavy weight of Boone’s absence. “Let’s just hope there won’t be any boxing gloves and moonshine involved in this debate.”
“Oh, God, bite your tongue,” River said, also reaching for a cookie. She looked so good, almost as if she was lit from within. “I also wanted to ask you to show at the gallery.”
“What? I’m not an artist,” I said automatically, floored by her request.
“Are you kidding me?” She rose and went into my workroom and came out with several sketches, and the garment I was working to complete. She held them up. “Hellooo? Art. Living art, that is my theme. Please tell me you’ll let me showcase you. This gown is gorgeous. New Year’s Eve?”
“Yes, something I’ve been playing with for next year.”
“This is playing?” Aubree said. “Can I get one of these?”
I laughed. “Okay, you can show me, River.”
“Sweet. I have Creed donating some metal pieces, you with your fashion sketches and gown, and then Boone with his landscape boards. Brax is doing photos of his cakes and dishes, plus he’ll be catering, so that will be his live presentation, Rory Finnegan will show his tattoos, and he’s agreed to do temporary Christmas tattoos for everyone who attends. And I have this cute florist whose arrangements are divine. I also will have an actor doing some scenes fromIt’s a Wonderful LifeandScrooge, and for the kids, a puppet show by some amazing puppet masters. Here’s the logo.”
“Booker will read from one of his novels with an exhibition of his books.”
“That sounds cool. What a great idea.”
“Thanks. But, my most wonderful idea is the Letters to Santa wall. Could Duel be part of that? You know, with your help?”
“That sounds so cute, River. Yes, he can participate.”
She looked around. “Where is the little munchkin?”
“With Grandma.”
“Okay, I’ll need a letter from Santa.” She went to her briefcase and tucked the sketches inside, laying the gown across her lap. She pulled out some stylized notebook paper with happy Santa faces all over it and a box of crayons. “Here are the supplies. I need it by December 15, along with a picture of him, or you can do a family selfie that might be more fun.”
Her words set off a chain reaction of cascading emotions. How much my family means to me. How much I love Boone, miss him, the loneliness of the last few days piling up on me and taking me down. I covered my face.
“Oh, Verity. We knew something was wrong,” Aubree said. “Booker told me straight out that he was almost feeling sick from the vibes he was getting from Boone. What happened?”
“Yeah, spill it, sugar, because we aren’t leaving until we know all the deets,” River said.
Resting my arms on my thighs, I closed my eyes and tried to collect some control. My voice was uneven when I finally answered around the lump in my throat. “I screwed up, guys.” I told them everything and they, bless them, listened without saying a word. “I didn’t exactly keep it from him, but now he’s upset and freaked about something happening to me if I got pregnant.”
“No kidding,” Aubree said, her voice hushed, her eyes so soft and sympathetic. “As if you haven’t been through enough. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. Sorry my momma brought it up.”
“It wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I should have told him everything, but like I said, I was dealing with so much, and so was he. I just felt it could wait. Might even be a non-issue.”
There was a taut silence; River Pearl glanced at Aubree, her brow furrowing. “Verity, I think you’re downplaying this situation. It sounds very serious to me, and Boone was a complete mess when you got stabbed. He was devastated, torn in two. His grief was palatable. This has to be resurrecting all those protective instincts, all that helplessness, and desperation he felt when he came close to losing you. So the fear and the anger are natural. Arguing with him isn’t going to help.”
