Holiday Unscripted, page 8
He laughs at me as he answers the phone and puts it on speaker. I narrow my eyes and glare right at him for not listening to me. “Hey,” he greets, “you’re on speakerphone and your sister is here.”
“No, I’m not!” I shout. “I’m, in fact, not here. I’m a ghost.”
“Oh good, I have the both of you so it can save me a phone call,” he says and Nate puts the phone on the counter, and I hold my hands up like I’m about to strangle him. “Just a reminder that it’s the day to do the last fitting.”
“Last fitting?” I repeat. “I didn’t do a first fitting.”
“We know,” Joshua replies. “We were wondering if you could maybe get there a bit early so she can work on yours first.”
“Who is we?” I ask him. “I emailed her my measurements that I took with her on Zoom. It’ll be fine.”
“It’s my wedding day,” he snaps and I look up at Nate, who just raises his eyebrows.
“Yes, wedding day, not fucking wedding week,” I retort. “I’ll be there when I need to be there and not a minute before. I have things I’m doing.”
“Yeah, like what?” he asks me.
“Like annoying Nate with my nipples,” I declare, and he grabs the phone from the counter.
“No nipples have been seen on purpose,” he denies into the phone. “I’ll drive her there as soon as she gets dressed.”
“No, he won’t,” I sing out as he disconnects the phone. “Fine, I’ll just be lounging here.” I walk over to the couch and put my knee into it before I sit down and cuddle in the corner. Whiskey comes up and joins me. “With my nipples, until fifteen minutes before we’re due to be there.”
“Should I make breakfast?” he asks me, leaning his elbows on the island.
“We would not say no to some pancakes and scrambled eggs.” I pet Whiskey’s head. “Would we?”
“So, you want pancakes and scrambled eggs.”
“I mean, if you are making them for yourself”—I hold up my hands—“I won’t say no.”
“You could just say, ‘Yes, Nate, that sounds great.’” He looks at me. “‘I would love to have some pancakes and scrambled eggs.’”
“If you’re making them, sure, I would like that very much.”
“Were you always this much of a pain in my ass?” he asks me and I shrug.
“Pretty much.” I turn back to look at him watching me. “I plan to be a pain in your ass every single day I’m here.”
“Well, unlike bowling.” He snorts. “You are killing it at that.”
“Do you hear that, Whiskey?” I rub his head. “I’m a pain in his ass.”
“Hey, at least now you’re talking to me,” he mumbles, and my head turns to watch his back as he takes the egg carton out of the fridge.
“What does that mean?” I ask him, the pit of my stomach now getting tight.
“It means exactly what I said it means.” He puts the things on the counter.
“Are we talking in code?” I ask him, taking another sip of my coffee. “Because I don’t understand a thing you are saying.”
“Really?” His eyebrows go up. “You have no idea?” The back of my neck starts to tingle. “None?”
“I have no idea.” I stand up and head toward the kitchen. “Do you want to say, add anything?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, turning and walking to the stove and I just watch him. “I also have no eggs.” He holds up the white container. “So how about we get dressed and I’ll take you out for breakfast?”
“Are you going to fill me in on what I need to know?” I ask him and he’s about to say something when the phone rings again, this time I see it’s my mother.
“That would be for you,” he says, pushing his phone my way. “I’m going to get changed.”
I grab the phone and put it on speakerphone. “Super Sex Hotline, how may we assist you on the road to the best orgasms?”
My mother gasps at the same time Nate does, which makes me burst out laughing. “You are incredible,” she hisses.
“I know.” I smile as I walk past him with his phone in my hand. “I’ve been told. Many times.” I look back at him and my eyebrows go up. “How can I help you this wonderful morning, Mom?”
“I just got off the phone with your brother,” she answers, “and he says you’re being unreasonable.”
It’s my turn to gasp. “Mom, he’s becoming groomzilla,” I say in my defense, “and he said I was bigger since he saw me last.”
“He did not.” Nate takes his side.
“No one is asking for you to intrude in my private conversation, Nate,” I hiss at him before turning my attention back at my mother. “He said I needed extra time with the seamstress, what do you think that means?”
“I’m sure you misunderstood.”
“Wow.” I stomp up the steps. “I think I know what I heard.”
“I’m coming to get you,” she states. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“No,” I sing out, “Nate was going to take me for breakfast.”
“I’ll take you for breakfast. Nate, you can come with us.”
“No worries, Denise. I have a bunch of things to do for the wedding anyway.”
“Liar,” I mouth to him, and he smirks. “Bye, Mom.” I hang up the phone. “I hope you’re happy.”
“Why is this my fault?” He walks up the steps and stands in front of me. He holds out his hand and I hand him his phone. “It’s your fault because you made me answer the phone.”
“She knows where I live,” he points out to me, “so she would have just shown up here.”
“You are just full of excuses,” I tell him. “Figures,” I snip and walk to the bathroom.
“What the fuck does that mean?” he snaps at me.
I shrug my shoulders. “It means exactly what I said it means,” I throw back in his face. “Now, as much as I would love to stand here and discuss whatever the fuck we are talking about, I have to get changed.” I turn and head to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it. “He’s not worth it,” I mumble before I start the shower. “Just forget it. The time to talk about this was the day after, not now, after seven freaking years.”
CHAPTER 10
Nate
MISTLETOE
A Christmas carol is playing softly on the radio as I turn onto the gravel road that leads to the parking lot. Christmas trees line the wooden fence all the way to the open parking lot. Looking at the clock on the dashboard, I see I’m about one minute early and I was expecting there to be more people here already.
Turning into the first open parking spot, I put the truck in park before turning it off. My hand goes to the handle as I open the door and step out. The cold air hits right away; it’s always cooler when we go north of the city. The sun shining in the sky is very much misleading as I grab my hunter-green jacket from the passenger seat, shrugging it on over my beige knitted sweater. I lean over to grab my beanie, putting it on the top of my head. Tucking my gloves in the pockets of my jacket, I snatch up my phone and tuck it in my back pocket of my jeans.
A gust of wind blows all around me as I head toward the log cabin. Garland lines the top of it with little twinkle red and white lights. Another wooden fence lines up with the entryway to the doors with rows of big Christmas trees. Some with lights on them. Some with red garland. Some completely bare.
I hear cars arriving behind me and I look over my shoulder to see at least ten more SUVs have just arrived. Turning around, I see Joshua hobble out of his SUV as Macy gets out of the passenger side, grabbing her bedazzled Bride hat. I look over at Joshua to see his black beanie has Groom written in white. When I make eye contact with him, I shake my head and all he does is smirk and then shrug his shoulders.
I left him two hours ago, after my suit fitting, and went to the office to make sure everything was okay and to check in with a couple of the animals that had surgery, promising to meet the wedding party here. The groom limps slowly with his bride beside him, holding her hand, and my eyes scan the crowd for Elizabeth.
Spotting her getting out of another car, I watch as her head tips back and she laughs at something someone said. Her blonde hair slips around her face as she puts on her black shades and walks into the parking lot greeting some of her family members, giving me a chance to take her in. She’s changed from when she walked out of the house this morning to go for her dress fitting. Now she’s wearing tight black leggings with a thick brown sweater. Her black vest opens at her chest, and she puts on a black knitted hat with a big pompom on the top that hangs back. Her boots go up to her calves with thick white socks sticking out.
“Hey.” Joshua steps in front of me, blocking his sister out. “Long time no see.”
“After the wedding,” I mumble to him, “I don’t want to see you for six to eight weeks.”
He laughs and slaps me on the shoulder as the family now gathers around us. I look over seeing more of his uncles have arrived. All of them used to play for the NHL and they still practice at least twice a week. In the summer, most of them come down to help Zack with the arena and help with the on-ice training.
I walk up to Max and Matthew first and hold out my hand for them. “Hey,” I say and they smile big at me. The two of them have always been a constant in our lives. Max might be the blood uncle, but if you tried to tell Matthew he wasn’t their uncle, he would fight you until the bitter end.
“Hey yourself,” Max says, slapping my shoulder. “Do me a favor.” He leans in and whispers in my ear, “If you get married and do this”—he looks around—“I’m going to beat your ass.”
I chuckle. “Trust me, if I get married”—I look down at my boots—“it’ll be either really fucking small or we’ll elope.”
“I like that thought,” Max says, looking over at Matthew, the running joke in the family since he eloped with Matthew’s sister many, many years ago. To this day, Matthew is still bitter about it, even though they had a big wedding the year after, to Matthew it means nothing. “Best thing I did was elope.”
“Really?” Matthew retorts. “The best thing?”
“Yup,” he replies, his smile going big. “Not only did I get to marry the love of my life…” He takes a deep inhale. “But I got to have one up on you.”
Matthew glares at him. “That’s still my sister.”
“Yup,” he agrees, “but she’s my wife. Which I think trumps sister on the food chain.”
I shake my head and walk toward Elizabeth, and I have no idea why I’m even going to her. I mean, I know why I’m going to her, I just don’t like the fact I’m drawn to her anyway. This morning we traded jabs about that night, neither of us letting on that was what we were both talking about, but neither of us outright saying it. It’s been seven years, it’s time to let it go, I’ve been telling myself, but I don’t know, something is not letting me move on. “Where is your jacket?” I ask her as I get closer to her. I can’t see her eyes because of her glasses, but from the look on her face, she’s glaring at me.
“It didn’t go with my outfit.” She uses both her hands to move up and down in front of her. “As long as my feet are warm, that’s all I care about.”
The sound of a whistle has us turning to look at the front. “Okay, if we can have everyone’s attention.” Joshua holds up his hand. “Thank you all for coming with us.”
“Did we have a choice?” Elizabeth mumbles from beside me. “At this point I feel like I’m being held hostage.”
I roll my lips and look down at my boots to stop from laughing. “We are going to head in and meet with Sabrina, who will explain everything to us.”
He turns and starts to walk toward the log cabin. “Explain things?” Elizabeth says to me as we walk behind everyone. “I thought we were coming, picking the tree, and then leaving.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy,” I reply to her and she grips my arm.
“I will give you one thousand dollars to push me down”—she looks around—“and then I’ll fake something.”
“I’m not pushing you down,” I tell her.
“Okay, fine, I’ll push you down,” she reconsiders. “I mean, you might be bigger than me, but I think I can take you.”
I chuckle at her and then start to walk forward. “You really are no fun,” she huffs out as she walks past me toward the log cabin.
“Someone is not in the Christmas spirit,” I retort and she stops walking to turn and probably kick me in the balls, which will make me fall to the side.
“Oh look,” one of the bridesmaids says, “they are under the mistletoe.” We both look up and see it hanging on a clear fishing wire. “You guys have to kiss.”
I look back at Elizabeth, who snaps at me, “Absolutely not.” She actually pushes me away. “I’d rather have seven years of bad luck.”
“I don’t think it’s an exact time frame.” I walk past her. “Also, if a woman refuses to kiss under the mistletoe, it’s believed she won’t receive marriage proposals the following year.”
“Who said that?” She folds her armd over her chest.
“It was said in Victorian times.”
“How do you know that?” she asks me and I shrug.
“One of my techs mentioned it the other week.”
“So someone else didn’t want to kiss you.” I hate that I can’t see her eyes as she closes the distance between us. “Figures.”
“She’s one of my staff members,” I tell her. “Even if she wanted a kiss, that would be a no.”
“You can spin it whatever way you want to spin it. I’m going to go with she didn’t want to kiss you.”
I lean down now and go close to her ear. “If memory serves me right”—I can smell her soft perfume mixed with her berry shampoo—“you kissed me first.” Her back goes straight as I step back away from her. To be honest, both of us lunged at the same time, but I’m not going to tell her that part if she doesn’t remember.
She just stands there with her mouth hanging open. “If memory serves me, you kissed me back.”
I smile at her brightly. “Damn fucking right I did.” I smirk. “But it doesn’t change the fact you kissed me first.” I tap my finger on her nose.
She storms past me, and I can’t help but chuckle to myself. “I guess it’s one nothing for me.”
She doesn’t even hold the door for me and I catch it right before it’s going to smash into my face. “Oops.” She snickers. “My bad. My hand slipped.”
“I’m sure it did,” I state, standing in the back of the room, with everyone piled into the warm room.
There are Christmas trees decorated all around the room, next to each tree are racks and racks of ornaments. Each tree its own bright color. “If I can have everyone’s attention.” The woman holds up a stick. “We’d like to welcome you to Magical Winter Wonderland tree farm.” She smiles. “It’s our honor to have you here with us.”
I look around and see a sitting area all the way in the back with a small counter and I read the menu, seeing they have a couple of baked goods and hot chocolate or hot apple cider. “We will take you all out to the field”—I turn back to her—“and you will get to choose the tree for your home.” I hear conversations happening around the room. “You can either cut down your own tree, which we do recommend if you have done it before, or we can assist you.”
The chatter starts once again and now Macy steps up. “If you see a tree and you already picked one out for home, let us know and we’ll have it taken over to the reception area so we can take pictures with it.”
We all start walking out of the cabin and head over to the side. “I’m cutting down the tree,” Elizabeth declares from beside me.
“What?” I turn to her.
“You need a tree for your house,” she points out, “and I’m assuming you will be getting one for your house. I will be cutting it down.”
“You really think someone is going to give you a chainsaw to cut down a tree?” I turn to her. “Honestly, ask anyone if they would give you a chainsaw.”
“I’m cutting my tree down,” she huffs.
“To put in my house.” I follow her as she treks it up the side mountain.
“You said make myself at home, did you not?” She stops next to a row of small trees. “This is me making myself at home.”
“I could say no,” I mention as she walks through a bunch of small trees. I see her parents over on the other side with Jack and Evie as they point out the biggest ones.
“You could,” Elizabeth says, “or we can get two trees.”
“Where would I put two trees?”
“I could put one in my room,” she suggests, moving past the trees and going to the other section.
“You really are taking the make yourself at home saying literally.”
“You betcha.” She smiles at me. “Who do you think I talk to about getting the saw?”
“Elizabeth,” I say her name, “there is no chainsaw, it’s a handsaw.”
“Okay, then who do I talk to about getting a handsaw?”
I roll my eyes. “Have you even picked out a tree yet?” I ask her and she looks around.
“I want to be prepared, Nate.” She moves her foot, and she trips over a branch and falls flat on her face. The sunglasses fly off of her face as she uses her hands to stop the fall. I’m reaching out, but I’m not fast enough before she hits the ground.
I shake my head, making my way over to her, grabbing her glasses along the way. “How prepared are you now?” She pushes up on her elbows.
“Wow.” She turns on her back. “You aren’t even going to fall down for me.” She starts to get up and I hold out a hand for her. I’m thinking she’s going to grab it, but instead she slaps it away.
“I don’t need your help, Nate.” She gets to her feet and dusts off the snow from her leg and her arm, her hands now turning red.
“Where are your gloves?” I ask her and then hold up a hand. “Let me guess, they didn’t go with the outfit.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my own gloves. “Here, I’ll sacrifice frostbite for you.”
