Happily This Christmas--A Novel Read online

Page 7


  She didn’t have an answer for that. Or any of it.

  “If you wanted to see me, you only had to tell me,” he said quietly. “I would have been there.”

  “I didn’t,” she said, pointing to the doorway. “I have to unpack and I’d like to be alone.”

  He hesitated. For a second she thought maybe he was just going to grab her and hug her. Longing swept through her. She needed a familiar Dad hug that would ease the ache in her heart and let her think everything was going to be okay. But instead of pulling her close, he simply walked out of the room and shut the door. The tears returned as she realized nothing had changed. Her dad was willing to be there for her when it was easy but the second it got hard, he walked away.

  * * *

  THE DISTANCE BETWEEN his house and Wynn’s had never seemed so long, Garrick thought as he led the way, Joylyn trailing behind him. He was confused, angry, hurt and a dozen other emotions he couldn’t name. Most of the time he didn’t care that he was a typical guy with a limited vocabulary to describe his emotional life, but every decade or so he thought maybe women were smarter with their ability to understand what they were feeling. Although given how badly things were going with his daughter, maybe ignorance was the safer path.

  Since he’d delivered her luggage, she’d ignored him, keeping to her room and refusing his offers of food. When he’d knocked on her closed door to mention dinner with Wynn and Hunter, she’d surprised him by agreeing to join him. His first thought had been disappointment that he wasn’t going to escape her for a few hours. That had led to guilt and other feelings he couldn’t name and here he was, walking up Wynn’s porch and hoping she could make some sense of the situation.

  Wynn opened the door seconds after he knocked. Relief swept through him as he stared into her beautiful eyes.

  Help me, he mouthed.

  She smiled but didn’t say anything as she turned her attention to Joylyn.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked. “Achy?”

  Joylyn nodded. “The drive was really hard.”

  “I’ll bet. Did you take a walk this afternoon? The movement might help.”

  “I didn’t think about that.” Joylyn shot him a glare. “I had other stuff on my mind.”

  He wanted to protest he hadn’t done anything wrong, but knew there was no point. Rather than say anything, he walked into the house and greeted Hunter.

  “This is my daughter, Joylyn. Joylyn, this is Hunter.”

  “Hey,” Hunter said, staring at her belly. “You’re going to have a baby. No one told me that.”

  “He’s due on Christmas Day.”

  Hunter’s whole face lit up. “That’s great. A Christmas baby! That happens all the time in the movies, so it’s kind of a thing. And, you know, Baby Jesus.”

  Joylyn laughed. “Baby Jesus is a lot to live up to.”

  Wynn touched Joylyn’s arm. “We’re going to barbecue chicken and steak. I have several salads to choose from, so you should find something that tastes good and sits well in your stomach. There’s plenty of time. Would you like to take a walk now? Just a short one? Hunter will go with you.”

  Joylyn glanced at the teen. “You sure?”

  Hunter nodded. “I wouldn’t want you getting lost. Plus Mom said you have brothers around my age. We’ll figure out something to talk about.”

  “A walk would be nice,” she said, and they headed for the door.

  When they were gone, Garrick followed Wynn into the kitchen and collapsed on one of the island stools. “You’re amazing.”

  Her gaze was sympathetic. “That bad?”

  “Worse. She hates me. She practically said it. She blames me for not seeing her when she was in high school. I pointed out that I showed up every week and she slammed the door in my face, but that doesn’t seem to count for anything. I called Alisha.”

  Wynn got a beer out of the refrigerator and handed it to him. “What did she say?”

  He took a couple of big gulps before setting down the bottle. “She admitted she hadn’t been honest with me when she asked if Joylyn could stay with me.” He looked at Wynn. “Apparently the problem isn’t the boys, it’s our daughter. She’s turned into, and this is a direct quote from her mother, ‘a raving bitch with psychotic tendencies.’ Nothing makes her happy, she’s unreasonable, demanding and horrible to be around. Alisha couldn’t stand her anymore and sent her here.”

  Wynn’s eyes widened. “That’s not happy news.”

  “I agree, but what can I do about it? I can’t throw her out. Despite how she’s acting, I don’t want to get rid of her. I love her. I just wish she wasn’t so difficult.”

  “I want to say Alisha should have warned you, but I’m sure she was afraid you wouldn’t agree to let Joylyn come stay.”

  “Being prepared might have made a difference, but I doubt it. Right now Joylyn is mad at the world.”

  And him. He supposed he should be grateful that some of her attitude wasn’t personal, but it didn’t feel that way. The great relationship they’d had before had been lost, and he still didn’t know how to get it back.

  “She is dealing with a lot,” Wynn said. “She’s newly married, pregnant and her husband is deployed. That would be hard on anyone.”

  “I don’t know why she didn’t stay on base in San Diego. She had friends there and support from the other Marine wives. Going back to live with her mom isolated her.”

  “She’s stuck now.” Wynn’s tone was sympathetic. “And now you are, too.”

  He appreciated the understanding, but before he could say anything, the front door opened.

  “We’re back,” Hunter called. “We saw Jackson’s new puppy. It’s a Great Dane. She’s really big already and her feet are huge.”

  Garrick glanced at his daughter and was relieved to see her eyes were bright with amusement. “They said she would be over a hundred pounds when she was grown. That’s a lot of dog.”

  Hunter grinned. “That’s a lot of poop to pick up.”

  Wynn sighed. “You’re never going to outgrow the bathroom humor, are you?”

  “Nope.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Sorry, Mom. You should be used to it by now.”

  “I keep hoping for improvement.”

  “Not gonna happen. Oh, Mom! Joylyn plays Fortnite. Can we go play before dinner?”

  “Sure.”

  He took a step, then glanced at her. “Does this count as part of my game time for the week?”

  “No. You may have a guest exception.”

  Joylyn made a fist and gently hit Hunter in the upper arm. “Girls rule, boys drool.”

  “It’s not because you’re a girl,” he said, leading the way back to the family room. “It’s because you’re a guest. And I don’t drool.”

  “You do in your sleep.”

  “Na-uh.”

  Their voices faded as they entered the family room. Garrick stared after them for a couple of seconds before looking at Wynn.

  “She’s transformed.”

  “For the moment. I’m sure she feels better after moving around and Hunter’s good company, but I wouldn’t hold my breath thinking it will last.”

  He knew she was right. “At least I know the real Joylyn is buried in there somewhere. It gives me hope.” All he had to do was figure out how to reach her. Maybe then they could talk and their relationship could be restored.

  Wynn sighed. “You look optimistic.”

  “I have a sunny disposition.”

  She laughed. “Even if that’s true, I would remind you to be cautious. And maybe learn how to play computer games.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TUESDAY MORNING WYNN woke up a few minutes before her alarm. It was still dark outside and the room felt a little cool. Winter, she thought, standing and stretching. At least as much of a winter as Happily Inc ever got. Not that she
’d ever experienced real winter. Oakland, California, where she’d grown up, also had temperate winters.

  She used the bathroom, then brushed her teeth before walking toward the kitchen. As she turned on the coffeepot she’d prepped the night before, she glanced out of the living room’s side window, toward Garrick’s house. She hadn’t seen him in a couple of days and wondered how things were going with Joylyn. Their dinner together had been relatively pleasant. Hunter was an excellent buffer, and the two got along well. Joylyn had been less pleasant when it came to her father. There was definitely something going on there, although Wynn couldn’t say what it—

  Something moved in the living room. Something large that seemed to get bigger. Her heart thundered and her body went cold as she realized there was a strange man in her house. Panic gripped her. She had to protect Hunter—that, she knew for sure. Should she run or scream or—

  “Sorry, Wynn. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  The man stepped out of the shadows and she immediately recognized Garrick. He had on jeans and a T-shirt, and his hair was mussed, as if he’d been asleep.

  Adrenaline poured through her, making it hard to focus. Her mouth was dry and her head was spinning. Her heart continued to race, making it difficult to talk.

  “You scared me!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  He shoved his hands into his front pockets in what she would guess was an attempt to look nonchalant.

  “I slept on your sofa.”

  The statement was so incredible, she couldn’t begin to understand what he was saying.

  “What is wrong with you?” she demanded. “You don’t sneak into someone’s house and sleep on their sofa. You can’t just be here, lurking in the darkness. It’s not right.”

  She thought longingly of the self-defense class she’d taken years ago and wished she could remember a few moves so she could break his nose or something. She pressed a hand to her chest only to realize she was wearing an oversize T-shirt, panties and nothing else.

  “Dammit, Garrick.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She stalked away, hoping the back of the T-shirt covered her butt. After pulling a robe out of her closet, she slipped it on and tied the belt at the waist. Only then did she return to the kitchen where she found Garrick seated at the island, sipping on a mug of coffee.

  She poured herself a cup, then leaned against the counter and eyed him warily.

  “Sorry,” he said, before she could speak. “The light was on late last night and I knocked. Hunter let me in. He said you were in the bath. I thought he told you I was here.”

  “He didn’t. He was in bed when I got out of the bathroom.” Having never said a word.

  Garrick drank his coffee. “I really am sorry.”

  “I believe you. Now, why did you spend the night on my sofa?” She looked at him as she spoke, trying not to notice that despite the casual clothes and mussed hair, he looked good. Men, she thought humorously. It was always that way with them.

  He sighed heavily. “I had to get away. Your place is right next door. I could have gone to Jasper’s or Cade’s but they’re both a few miles outside of town.”

  “Okay, that explains why you picked my sofa over theirs, but not why you left your own bed in the first place.”

  He glanced away from her. “Joylyn’s a nightmare. I know it’s wrong to say that, but she is. Sunday she mostly stayed in her room, but every time she came out she was complaining about one thing or another. So I tried giving her a little space, and then she complained I was abandoning her all over again. When I tried to talk about what it was like when she’d been a kid, she said she didn’t remember any of it.”

  He clutched his coffee in both hands. “Last night I offered to take her out to dinner. She said she didn’t want to. I said I could get takeout or go to the grocery store, only she said she wasn’t hungry. Thirty minutes later, she accused me of trying to starve her and wanted to know why we weren’t going out to dinner. I don’t know if she’s torturing me or if she’s having some kind of breakdown.”

  She relaxed. “You’re afraid of her.”

  “You would be, too, if you had to live with her.”

  “Poor Garrick.”

  “It’s awful.”

  “How can I help?”

  “You can’t, but I appreciate the offer. I’m sorry I scared you.” He looked at her. “It was dumb to come here and I apologize. Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

  She instantly thought of her still-warm bed and how good he would look in it. She liked the idea of them together, naked and touching. There were complications, however. Hunter would get up in less than a half hour and Joylyn was right next door. Oh, and the fact that Garrick had never once hinted he thought of her in a boy-girl way.

  “Next time leave me a note,” she said. “By the coffeepot. That way I’ll see it right away.”

  “I promise.” He drained his coffee and stood. “I need to get back and make sure she’s all right. With any luck, she’s asleep.”

  “And you can sneak out to work before she wakes up?”

  “I wouldn’t say sneak. Want to come over for dinner tonight? Hunter, too, of course. I’ll be serving the finest takeout in town.”

  She laughed. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  “You’re the one doing me a favor.”

  “Acting as a buffer?”

  “Something like that. Although I do enjoy the company.” He paused, then smiled. “The T-shirt was cute.”

  She flushed. “Pretend you never saw that.”

  “Too late, but how about if I don’t comment on it again?”

  “That would be good.”

  He put his coffee mug in the sink, then left. Wynn stayed where she was, wishing she wasn’t wondering what he’d thought about seeing her in the T-shirt. What did cute mean? And why did he have to say cute? Sexy would have been more interesting. Appealing was good, too. But cute? Men were just so annoying.

  * * *

  WYNN’S MORNING FLEW by as quickly as always. Work was busy with new orders coming in and completed orders going out. A little after eleven, her friends Renee and Natalie walked in.

  Natalie, a pretty brunette with curly hair and bright red glasses, was several months pregnant. Her visible happiness and sweet disposition were a stark contrast to Joylyn’s sullen nature. Wynn wondered how much of Joylyn’s attitude was about her circumstances and how much of it was because of her personality. Not a question she would get answered today, she told herself.

  While Natalie wore a flowy maternity dress, Renee, a petite redhead, had on a dark suit and three-inch heels.

  “Work or play?” Wynn asked, hugging her friends.

  “Work,” Renee said. “We need some help with a couple of weddings.”

  “Then let’s go to my office.”

  Renee was a partner in Weddings Out of the Box—a destination wedding venue in town. She’d worked in the business nearly two years and had bought in last year. Renee was organized, creative and fiercely loyal. She was also married to Jasper Dembenski, a successful thriller writer and Wynn’s former lover.

  Wynn had ended things a few years back for reasons that seemed really silly now. Not that she wanted him back. She and Jasper had both been more interested in the convenience of their relationship rather than any romantic connection. He was much happier with Renee than he’d ever been with her.

  As for what Wynn wanted—well, that was less sure. Someone she could love with her whole heart. Assuming she let herself go there, she thought sadly. Because most days it seemed that she wouldn’t.

  “What’s up?” she asked when her friends were seated.

  “There’s a wedding,” Renee said. “In fact there are several.”

  “People love to get married at the holidays,” Wynn said, then turned to Natali
e. “If you’re involved, then I’m guessing there is some kind of art project.”

  Natalie was a gifted artist who worked with different materials, including paper.

  “There is,” Natalie said. “We’re going to need to special order some paper, and it has to be a rush.”

  Renee opened her briefcase. “I have the specs here.” She flipped through several folders. “We have a Hanukkah wedding coming up. That’s keeping me awake at nights worrying that we’re getting it all right. I was totally freaked because I don’t know much about Jewish traditions, but then the bride mentioned that her aunt was a rabbi, so we’ve been emailing nearly every day. She’s been amazingly helpful.”

  She set one folder on the desk, then pulled a menorah out of her briefcase. It was gold with blue enamel accents.

  “We want to match the place cards to this color blue.”

  “Are the menorahs going to be part of the centerpieces?” Wynn asked.

  Renee nodded. “We’re debating lighting versus not lighting. The bride is still deciding.”

  “It makes a difference,” Wynn said as she pulled out her paper samples to match the color. “If they’re lit, you can’t have anything close to them. If they’re not lit, you could cluster flowers around. Either would be pretty.”

  “That’s what I said,” Natalie told her with a smile.

  Wynn held out a couple of color samples. They all stared at the small pieces of paper.

  “That one,” Renee said firmly, pointing. “The usual card-stock weight. Can you print them?”

  “If you get me a list and a font.” Wynn grinned. “I’ll even fold them for you. Okay, not me exactly, but the machine that does it.”

  Natalie laughed. “I love office equipment. I have no use for it, but I love it.”

  “Me, too.” Renee made a note. “Thanks for the folding. I gave the bride a ballpark price for the work. Assuming there’s nothing extra pricey about the paper and the printing, then we’re good to go.”

  “The only cost difference would be if they use an expensive font I don’t already own.”

 

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