Page 2 of Welcome Home for Christmas
“Nothing too much. Just yourself,” Griffin said, one side of his mouth kicking up.
“Me?”
“A few hours of your time. That’s all, buddy. The idea is, with Seaside being a military town, spouses are gone more often than not. There’s a lot of honey-dos that aren’t getting done. So Allison Carmichael, the director at the Veterans’ Center, is auctioning off volunteer Marines willing to do things like yard work, house repairs, washing the car.”
Troy didn’t see what the big deal was. “All right. Count me in.”
Griffin and Charlie Myer exchanged a look that didn’t get past Troy. There was more that they weren’t saying. Troy’s officer’s gut was ringing like a security alarm. He was about to begin the interrogation when a call went over the radio.
MPs needed at the commissary.
“Lunch is over, guys,” Troy said, grabbing his keys. “The Christmas crazies are at it again.”
—
Allison stared at the list of men on her desk, all willing to donate their time for a good cause. She wanted to kiss each and every one of them. In a matter of days, everything had come together seamlessly. The Vets’ Center had already been planning the holiday function for military spouses. It was a ready-made event for adding on the fundraiser auction for the kids at Mercy’s Place. She only had one thing left to do for tomorrow’s party.
She needed wine to prime the pump.
Grabbing her purse, she headed to her car in the parking lot. There was a sandwich place next door to Seaside’s local wine shop. She could kill two birds with one stone and grab lunch while she was out.
A text came in from her mother as she plopped into her little car.
You’re coming to the family’s Christmas Eve party next Saturday, right?
Allison sighed. She was excited about tomorrow’s function with the military spouses, but not so much about her family’s annual Christmas Eve party. She hated attending those gatherings. Her extended family, whom she loved dearly, were like well-intentioned vultures picking away at her.
When was she settling down? Why was she still alone? Didn’t she know that ripe-for-the-picking had passed many moons ago?
Yes,Allison typed back, her index finger twitching with resistance.
Her phone dinged with another incoming message.
Bringing a guest?her mother wanted to know.
Allison could almost hear the tone in the typed words. Her mother was a psychologist at the Naval Hospital on Camp Leon. If Allison responded no, the psychobabble of why she wasn’t dating would commence.Yeswould be a lie, of course, because her mother’s psychobabble was partially true. Allison was avoiding dating. Scared, tired, uninterested. Those were all part of her reasons.
Not sure yet,she answered instead, taking the middle road.Sorry, Mom. Really busy. I’ll call you later.
Allison blew out a breath, promising herself she would indeed call her mother back later. After she’d primed her own pump. She was tired of defending herself. She was happily single right now, and could pretty much satisfy every need she had without a guy in her life.
Speaking of satisfying needs…
Allison spoke into the dictation app on her cellphone: “Buy more double A batteries.” Then she flung her phone into the passenger seat and continued her drive to Seaside’s finest wine store—Wine from the Vine. She’d grown up with the owner here, but it was usually an older woman who ran the shop.
The bell to the store rang behind Allison as she entered and headed straight for the blue-haired woman behind the register.
“Hi, I’m Allison Carmichael, the director at the Veterans’ Center. I left a message earlier in the week for Mr. Mason about the annual party for military spouses.”
The woman nodded sweetly. “Yes, of course. Mr. Mason told me that you could pick out any wines you like, as much as you need, free of charge.”
Allison’s mouth dropped open. She’d been hoping to get a discount since she knew the owner, but she hadn’t expected this. “That’s very generous!”
The older woman nodded. “Mr. Mason is a very generous man, I’m sure you know.” She pointed to a stack of shopping baskets. “Go ahead, dear.”
Allison grabbed a basket and began to peruse the wines, some from the Mason family vineyards and others from vineyards across the country. She had picked out about eight bottles when the bell to the store rang again and someone walked in. Allison was on an inside aisle and couldn’t see the customer’s face, but she heard his deep voice. She paused to listen as he charmed the older woman to giggles. Allison smiled to herself. She was probably going to turn into one of those unmarried old maids that got giggly around an attractive man, too. Nothing wrong with that, even though everyone and their neighbor thought singlehood was a disease, to be cured only by shaming and matchmaking.
Allison picked up another bottle from the shelf and read the label, trying to focus on the task at hand. A few minutes later, she’d picked out a few white wines and some red. The one in her hand was a sweet holiday variety.
