My Kind of Christmas
Page 33

“We have Riordans on our tail now! They’d follow f**king bread crumbs! I’ll never shake ’em now.”
“At least my family is afraid that if they get too close, I’ll have a meltdown. I have a feeling your family is willing to risk it.”
“Here’s the deal, Angie—we can be nice to them but we are not giving up our nights together! Do you hear me on that? Because the way I see it, we have four nights left and if I have to rent a fifth wheel and take you out in the woods—”
She burst into laughter. “Who knew you were so sex-crazed?”
“Hah. Like you aren’t?”
“I don’t think I’m quite as desperate as you are.”
“Sure could’ve fooled me,” he said. He pulled into the clearing of her cabin, threw the Jeep into Park and jumped out. Before she could even get out, he was at her side of the Jeep, pulling her out and lifting her into his arms. “Hang on to the takeout,” he said gruffly, carrying her up the porch steps.
She ran a knuckle along his rough cheek. “Are you angry?” she asked.
“I’m a little irritated, yeah.”
“Well, put me down. I want to tell you something.” When she’d landed on her feet on the porch and stood looking up at him, she said, “I want to meet them. I know it doesn’t really mean anything, but still, I want to. Even though we’re going off in different directions. I want to see the green-eyed family. I want to spend some more time with your mother—Jilly says everyone adores her. Your mother must really be something....”
“She can be a real pain in the ass.”
“Then there’s my mother,” she said with a laugh. “You’ve met her, but I’d love you to meet my dad. He’s a very nice guy. And my sisters—they’re growing into interesting young women, if a little high maintenance. Wait till you see how little we’re alike. And, oh, Paddy—my grandfather is the most wonderful man. You shouldn’t miss out on meeting him.”
His anger began to flee as he looked into her eyes with tenderness. “Ange,” he said softly. “I don’t want this to be harder than it has to be. We should be alone. We shouldn’t get too involved with each other’s families.”
She tilted her head and smiled. “How do you think you’ll make it any easier? Patrick, you know I love you. Yes, you do,” she said to the shaking of his head. “But on the morning of the twenty-third you’re going to drive out of here as you promised you would do and I have no idea what will come after that. I don’t know if you’ll write or call. I don’t know if you’ll think about me sometimes or if I’ll just be out of sight, out of mind. But it’s almost Christmas and, before you go, I just want to enjoy the holiday spirit. I want us to help deliver the Christmas boxes, go to a couple of parties, sing around the tree, eat some great food and—” she smiled into his eyes “—and make love all night long. I don’t know if you’ll store up the memories, but dammit, I will.”
* * *
They spent Saturday night at the cabin, such a brief space of time. On Sunday, they went to church where they spotted a couple of the Riordans—Sean, Franci and Rosie, George and Maureen. There were plenty of Sheridans present and a great reunion took place between the sisters. Angie was right—they were incredibly different. Jenna was as tall as her mother, slim and auburn haired, Beth just average height and slightly rounder with dark hair.
Sam, over six feet with thick silver hair, grinned and took Patrick’s hand in a hearty shake. “Well, son, so good to meet you—I’ve heard a lot about you!”
Patrick cast a glance at Angie.
“Not from her.” Sam laughed. “Jack was telling me all about you. My daughter, Donna, was impressed with your goodwill and I thank you for helping her with her car.”
“It was nothing.”
“There aren’t many people who would bother,” Sam said.
And just like that, Patrick’s mother and George joined them, Sean’s family were added, introductions were made along with plans for those present to go over to the bar for breakfast. Tables were pushed together, omelets were ordered, laughter filled the bar. Once everyone was served, Jack joined them and it seemed he had a story about every person at the table.
“Sean here—he ran into his old girlfriend in Arcata and, to his surprise, found out she had a little girl with his green eyes.”
Franci gasped. “Do we really have to tell that story?”
“That’s one of the good ones. Wait till you meet Aiden, Dad,” he said to Sam. “He had the distinction of knocking out his future wife before he could properly meet her.”
“Quite the caveman, is he?” Sam asked.
“Jack shouldn’t have opened this door,” Donna said. “The Sheridans have no shortage of stories on him.”
“Not in my house,” Jack said fiercely.
“I think it would be fun to get the Riordans and what we have of the Sheridans gathered in the same room,” Maureen suggested.
“It would have to be a damn big room,” Patrick muttered, not really into this idea.
“The bar won’t work after dark,” Jack said. “Too many out-of-towners head up this way because of the tree.”
“We have the Victorian,” Sean said.
“We’re not limited to after-hours—we can come up with daylight diversion,” George suggested. “Anyone up for a good, old-fashioned hayride? Or would that be sleigh ride? Jack?”
“Buck Anderson hauls kids around on the back of his hay wagon every year. He pulls it with a tractor. It’s nice and big.”
“Will you call him, Jack?”
“Hey!” Patrick protested. “Does anyone care if Angie and I have plans?”
Everyone looked between one another, then expressed a unified “No.”
Angie grabbed Patrick’s hand under the table and said, “I think it sounds wonderful. I’m in.”
* * *
By the end of breakfast, and after a lot of suggestions and plans, a couple of ideas began to take shape. An afternoon hayride if Buck Anderson could be convinced and an evening at the Victorian, gathering the whole crowd. When the group was breaking up—some to help deliver Christmas boxes and others on their way to visit with friends and family, Donna separated Angie from the crowd. Off in a far corner in the back of the bar Donna asked, “How are you doing, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay,” she said.
“Are you annoyed with everyone for making plans when you only have a few days with Patrick before he goes?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I told him—I want to spend time with his family. Even though he has to leave, it’s the only time I’ll ever know them. And knowing them is knowing him. Don’t you think?”
“I do, honey.”
Jenna and Beth were there, as if drawn by a magnet.
“He’s beautiful, Ange,” Beth said.
“Hot,” Jenna agreed.
“I know. But Mom told you, didn’t she? I don’t get to keep him.”
“Bummer,” Jenna said. “That’s going to suck.”
“Probably.” Then she looked at her mother. “I’m going back to school, Mom. After the holidays I’ll check in with USC.”
Donna put a gentle palm against her face. “I support whatever decision you make, Angie.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“At the end of the week, we’ll be around. We can be close by or we can disappear if you feel like being alone. We’ll do Christmas with Jack. You can join us or not—it’s up to you.”
“I don’t want you guys to have an unhappy Christmas because of me.”
“No matter what kind of holiday we have, we stick together.”
* * *
Patrick realized he hadn’t called Marie since the day of Megan’s surgery. So much had happened; so much family had invaded. When he did call her, she didn’t pick up. He didn’t have cell reception in the mountains and only a very limited amount of time alone when he could place the call from a landline. So he did as she requested and texted that all was well.
He had come to his cabin for a shower and change of clothes while Angie visited with her mother and sisters for a little while. This afternoon would be the hayride with as many Riordans and Sheridans as could be rounded up. Just to clear his head so he could enjoy his time left with Angie, he called Marie’s mother to leave her a message.
After a brief cordial chat, he asked if Marie was there.
“No, Patrick, I’m afraid not. I’m watching Daniel while she shops. She’s with a friend who’s a decorator, picking out and pricing all kinds of things for the house. It turns out she’s going to have to completely recarpet and tile, not to mention paint.”
So she was really into this new house. Should she have done something like that so soon after Jake’s death? “She’s not picking up when I call,” he said.
“Is that so?” Marie’s mother said. “That’s odd—I called her not ten minutes ago to ask her what Daniel should have for lunch, since he turned his nose up at leftover spaghetti.”
“Can I ask a favor? Will you please call her again and ask her to call me right away? I’m only at this number a little while and I really need to speak to her. Tell her it’s important.”
“I can try, Patrick. But chances are if she’s not picking up your call, she’s out of range. She never has her phone turned off—she has a two-year-old. I’ll give her another try now.”
It was barely five minutes before the phone rang and he grabbed it.
“Well, stranger—what’s so important?” she asked.
“I thought you’d take this as encouraging news—my entire family showed up in Virgin River. Since I wouldn’t go to San Diego with them, they came here.”
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that!”
“You’re much happier about it than I am,” he said. “But I knew you would be. Now you can relax—I’ve spent time with the family. I’ll see you in a couple of days. I get the impression from your mother that you’re all excited about the house.”
“It’s going to be a lot of work, but I welcome it. Something positive to look forward to. I can’t wait to see you. I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I miss you like crazy!”
“Just a couple of days more.”
* * *
The hay wagon was loaded with people—even Jack took the afternoon off so he could help Mel watch the little ones. In addition to Sheridans and Riordans, Noah Kincaid and his wife and kids came along, since their family had such a close relationship with Maureen’s partner, George.
The entire town was alive with Christmas—as the wagon rode down the main street, everyone came outside to wave and join in carol singing. They laughed at one another’s off-key voices and a few friendly snowball fights broke out along the way. The Riordan men regressed a bit, running alongside the wagon and firing snowballs as though they were missiles, and eventually ended up rolling in the snow, stuffing snow down one another’s jackets and pants. It didn’t stop until Luke’s wife, Shelby, got hit square in the back of the head by a really wet one.
“That’s it!” Luke shouted. “The next one to throw a snowball has to deal with me!”
Through hysterical laughter, Angie was able to count the sixteen snowballs that hit Luke in every part of his body.
After the ride, everyone separated to rest and change for the evening gathering at Jilly and Colin’s Victorian. Patrick and Angie went first to her cabin where her shower and dressing was delayed when she was tossed on the bed and her body covered by his.