Stockings and Sugarplums (Hearts of Snow Lake) Page 8

  He makes a face, head slightly tilted. “If he’s as great as he seems, he’ll understand.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m not worried about that. He always understands.”

  Now Paul starts to smirk. “You really like him, huh?”

  I snort. “More than that. I think this is it.”

  My brother’s eyes widen, jaw dropping. “Get out of here. Are you serious? Like it, it? The one, it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Paul whistles lowly, shaking his head. “Well shit. I didn’t even think you bought into that stuff.”

  “I didn’t,” I admit. “Maybe I’ll be better at selling the engagement rings now,” I joke. Hard to sell a symbol of love and soul mates when you’re a cynic that doesn’t really believe in either, but that’s why Paul was always the front end guy.

  “I’m happy for you. How’s all that working with the uh… pastor thing?” he asks, making a face.

  I roll my eyes. Leave it to my brother to ask the inappropriate questions.

  “I never asked you stuff like that about Alton,” I protest.

  “Because you hate him.”

  “I don’t hate him. I just don’t trust him.”

  “Let’s not get into that again right now, hmm? What about Pastor Liam?”

  I shrug. “His denomination is very progressive.”

  Paul grins. “So you guys can…?”

  “We can,” I say. “We haven’t,” I admit a second later. I can’t keep anything from Paul. He’s my twin for crying out loud.

  He frowns, folding his arms over his chest. “Why not?”

  “That’s pretty personal, isn’t it?”

  “We have identical DNA, can’t get more personal than that,” he says, playing the trump card that always works.

  I sigh, crossing my arms, our postures mirrors of each other. “It just hasn’t happened. His mom is staying with him, and he’s got a foster kid right now… There just isn’t really any privacy, and I’m not in a hurry. To be honest… I don’t need that to know.” It feels crazy saying it out loud, but it’s true. I don’t need to test our compatibility to know it exists.

  “I’m really happy for you. He sounds like a great guy. I hope it all works out for you… You’re going to have to let me meet him for real sometime, though. Maybe after the New Year when everything’s a bit calmer?”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” I agree, not even dreading the idea of spending time with Alton if I’ve got Liam there to keep me calm.

  “See you tomorrow!” my brother calls on his way out of the shop.

  I let out a heavy sigh, withdrawing my phone to text Liam about the change in plans.

  It’s crazy how quickly my priorities have shifted since I’ve met him. Not just him, but Brandon too. I find myself taking more and more of a parental role with him. We all went ice skating a few days ago and Brandon asked if I’d help him get a gift for Liam. While Liam was having some committee meeting, I sneaked Brandon out of the parsonage and we went to the drugstore where he found a pair of fuzzy slippers to warm Liam’s perpetually cold-and-bare feet.

  I told him he could spend however much he wanted, that I’d take care of it, but he’s happy with the slippers. He’s heard Liam complain about cold toes enough times and he’s convinced it’s the perfect gift.

  Since it’s coming from him, I’m sure he’s right.

  Of course I’ve got my own gift picked out for Liam. I’m not sure it’s nearly as perfect. He might reject it completely, but like I told Paul, I already know. What’s the point in waiting?

  About half an hour after I text Liam, I get a phone call from him.

  “Hey,” I answer, hearing the down note in my own voice.

  “Hey… You’re stuck at work tonight, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “Paul wanted to have a life of his own, the jerk. I’m sorry. Tell Meryl and Brandon I’ll make it up to them somehow.”

  “They’ll be fine,” he assures me. “They’ve already decided to watch the newest remake of the Grinch, and it’s supposed to snow tonight—”

  “Is it?” I mutter, looking to the street. Already the sun’s dipping, sunset earlier and earlier every day. It’s hardly four and already all the light of day is behind us.

  “Just an inch or two, not enough to break out the shovels.”

  “Thank goodness,” I laugh. He’s always so concerned with those sidewalks around his church.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asks, sounding more serious.

  I blow out a breath, running my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on. Have an extra cocoa for me, okay?”

  “Will do,” he says, both of us lingering on the call for another moment, unspoken words hanging in the air between us. Now’s not the time to say it, even if it’s on the tip of my tongue.

  “Have a good night,” I tell him instead.

  “You too,” he answers, the line finally clicking off.

  I sigh, shoving my phone in my pocket.

  I shouldn’t be so bummed that I’m actually having to do my job for once, but I am. Spending time with Liam and his family is heaps better than being here alone doing paperwork.

  I used to love that paperwork; now it’s just an obstacle between me and what I really love.

  At least if I hack away at the to-do pile Paul will have less objection to me leaving to spend so much time with Liam. Worth a shot at least, and it’s gotta get done.

  By six o’clock, I’ve sold two necklaces and four pairs of earrings, but I’ve barely touched the mass of things to do in my office. I’ve just sat down at the desk and pulled up a spreadsheet on my computer when I hear the bell above the door chime again.

  I’m never going to get anything done at this rate, but I’m glad I listened to Paul and stayed here. We’ve sold enough in the last two hours alone to justify it.

  “I’ll be right with you,” I call out to the shop, locking the computer before heading out. “What can I help you— Oh! It’s you.”

  “It’s me!” Liam says, grinning on the other side of the display case. “I brought you some food. Can you break for dinner?”

  What in the world did I do to deserve this guy?

  “Yeah, of course, let me just put the sign up,” I tell him. We’ve got a Back in Twenty Minutes sign we put on the door whenever Paul and I take lunch together that’ll be perfect for the occasion.

  “Come on back,” I say, waving him toward the office, hastily trying to clear off space for him and the homemade meal he’s hand-delivered. It smells amazing. Pot roast maybe?

  “Did your mom make that?” I ask craning to look at the Tupperware he’s concealing.

  “You know, I can cook too,” he says, sounding a little stung as he passes it over. “But yes, she made it.”

  “You can cook for me anytime.”

  “How generous of you,” he teases.

  “Did you already eat?”

  He nods. “I had some with Mom and Brandon. You were missed, but Brandon promises he’s got a foolproof strategy to beat you next time you come over to play Monopoly.”

  “You don’t think I should let him win, do you?”

  “No way,” Liam answers right away. “He’s too smart to fall for it, and then he’d just be upset. Let him win fair and square. It’ll happen.”

  I nod, blowing on a chunk of roasted potato that’s still hot from the oven. “I just don’t know with him… You know? I feel like he could use a win.”

  Liam smiles. “He’s off the street. He’s already winning,” he says, echoing what I told him about the office. The office which has been a perfectly serviceable bedroom for Brandon, I’ll add.

  “Yeah, of course you’re right.” It’s just a silly game. Brandon doesn’t care if he wins, he’s always been happy just to play. It helps that Meryl and Liam both lose with such grace, setting great examples for him along the way. I kind of do hope he beats me, but Liam’s right; I can’t pull my punches. It’s got to be f
air.

  “Are you ready for tomorrow?” I ask, holding back a groan at how good this pot roast is. Holy cow.

  He fidgets with the button on his sleeve, then shrugs. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose. My service is ready, I think the kids are good for the Nativity—”

  “And the sets are flawless,” I say, smiling his way.

  “Yes, they are, you’re right about that. The First United Church of Christ won’t know what hit them.”

  “A whole lot of Holy Spirit, I’m gonna guess?”

  He snorts. “Leave the preaching to me, babe.”

  “Can do.”

  “Is this all the stuff you’re behind on?” he asks, looking at my stack of papers dubiously.

  “It looks worse than it is.”

  “Does it?” he asks, skeptical.

  I shrug. “Maybe not. I’ll get through it. I’ve been a little distracted lately.”

  I say it in a flirty, fun way, but Liam doesn’t smile about it. “Don’t let me keep you from your work. I’ll still be around when it’s done.”

  Somehow he’s read my worries and soothed them all at once.

  “I’d much rather spend my time with you and Brandon and Meryl,” I say, polishing off my delicious meal.

  “Everyone would rather do things other than work,” he says gently. “Leisure is much more satisfying when it’s a reward for hard work.”

  “Ugh,” I groan, exaggerating an eye roll. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be a good influence on me.”

  Liam grins, leaning across my desk to kiss me before he gathers up my empty dishes to take home.

  “I can try. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  I follow him to the door, plucking the sign off and stashing it back under the register where it belongs.

  Just like that, I feel lighter. Happier. Better equipped to tackle what’s ahead of me.

  Seeing Liam recharged me. He energizes me when most people drain me. It’s a superpower of his.

  I’m smiling the rest of the night, even while I’m crunching numbers and sending off payments and invoices. I’ve got the best boyfriend in the world. Why should I ever stop smiling?

  There are fewer customers after dinner, so I’m able to make some good headway on the mound of crap on my desk, and I leave feeling pretty satisfied as I’m locking up.

  I briefly consider texting Liam. Maybe if he’s still up we could spend some time together. He’s probably already in bed though, and he needs all the rest he can get before tomorrow. I have a feeling there’s going to be an endless stream of things vying for his attention. I don’t want to be the reason he’s sleep-deprived and off his game.

  When I get out of the shower, I’ve got a few messages and pictures from Paul of his night at the ballet. He looks so damn happy, arm around Alton posing in front of the big tree at the theater. As much as I’ve struggled to trust—or even like—my brother’s partner, even I have to admit he’s made a huge impact on Paul. My brother’s always been the friendlier, happier of the two of us, but Alton’s brought out this light in him that makes me realize everything before was mostly an act.

  Glad you guys had fun. Got a lot done. Good night all around, I text him before crawling into bed.

  When I wake up, there’s four inches of snow on the ground, the whole town painted in a fresh coat of white just in time for Christmas.

  I bet Liam’s already outside the church shoveling. The snow’s still coming down in big fat flakes, the sun barely cutting through the clouds. I don’t know who in town is going to be open today, but I try my luck, hoping I’ll be able to get some coffee and a pastry from the bakery. How could Liam be stressed with a muffin and a latte in hand?

  Snow Lake Bakes has a pretty little Closed for the Holiday sign on the door, red glitter shimmering from the other side.

  Well, crap.

  Guess I’m going to the Gas ’n’ Go.

  The coffee is nothing special and the pastries are a couple of days old, but I grab treats for everyone anyway, juggling the caddy of coffees on my way out.

  Liam’s not outside the church, but the sidewalk has been recently shoveled, a fresh dusting already starting to cover the concrete again. I follow the footsteps left in the snow back to the parsonage, and before I even knock, I can hear Meryl belting “White Christmas” like she’s on stage at Carnegie Hall.

  Brandon’s the one that answers the door when I knock, and his whole face lights up. It’s a pretty good feeling for someone to have that reaction to seeing me.

  “Phineas!” he says, eyeing the treats I’ve brought, grinning ear to ear.

  “Ho ho ho,” I call into the house. “I come bearing caffeine and gas station goodies.”

  Meryl’s doing some last-minute decorating while she sings, and she smiles over her shoulder at me. “Oh, aren’t you a sweetheart. There’s a coffee for me?” she asks, disbelief in her voice.

  “And a cocoa for Brandon, though I don’t know if it’s any good,” I tell him, extracting each of their drinks, passing them along. “Where’s Liam?”

  “Did I hear someone knocking?” Liam calls, the bathroom door opening with a cloud of steam pouring into the hall. He’s wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants right now, his hair damp, skin flushed from the heat of the shower.

  My mouth goes dry instantly, and I forget everything for a moment. He looks so good, kissable—let’s be honest, fuckable—and I’ve been trying to keep things slow. I know his church doesn’t exactly shun people for having sex, but he’s still a pastor, and people can be weird. I don’t want to cause any problems for him, and I don’t mind taking my time. Sometimes that means I get blindsided with the full force of my blue balls and I don’t remember how to talk.

  “Hi,” I say, voice hardly there at all.

  Liam smiles, and I swear by the twinkle in his eyes he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

  “Hey you,” he says, coming over to give me a quick kiss right there in front of everyone.

  “I brought you bad coffee and a stale muffin.”

  “My hero,” he jokes, pulling a cup from the caddy.

  “Actually, there’s stale pastries for everyone,” I say, placing the plastic bag on the coffee table. Brandon’s quick to snatch up the Rice Krispies treat, Meryl takes an oatmeal cookie, and Liam actually gets the muffin I picked out for him. It’s almost like I knew what they’d want.

  “Thank you, honey,” Meryl says, sipping her coffee, dunking the cookie in it.

  “Yeah, thanks, Phineas,” Brandon says, flopping on the couch.

  “There hasn’t been time for breakfast,” Liam says, gratitude in his voice. “Can you believe that snow?”

  “It’ll be okay,” I assure him.

  He makes a face. “You don’t think it’s irresponsible to have people out driving in it?”

  “The roads are clear. We’ll keep an eye on it,” I say, squeezing his shoulder. “Most people in town can walk if they need to anyway,” I remind him.

  Nothing’s very spread out here. There are a few people I know that live far enough out of the way that they need a vehicle to get into town, but they’re definitely in the minority. Snow Lake’s always been fairly pedestrian-oriented since it’s right on the water and caters to tourists.

  “I’m really glad you’re here,” Liam says, stepping closer, his voice lowering. Meryl and Brandon are singing Christmas carols while Brandon strings popcorn and Meryl arranges garland. This place has gone into full Christmas overload in the last couple of weeks, but I know Meryl’s just trying to give Brandon everything he’s never had. From the sounds of it, his parents have always been insanely strict and left him out of most activities. Meryl’s been trying to make up for his last eleven Christmases with just this one.

  “What’s up?” I ask, sensing something in his tone, the worry lines around his eyes. That’s not just normal gratitude or happiness to see me.

  He bites his lip, glancing over at
Brandon.

  “I got a call from Lonny just a bit ago. He wants to come over and talk about Brandon’s parents… I don’t really know what to expect. He didn’t say a lot over the phone, just wanted to make sure I’m available.”

  I reach for his hand without thinking, lacing my fingers through his. He’s terrified of losing Brandon.

  “Maybe they’ve decided to sign away their rights,” I offer.

  Liam makes a face. “I looked it up, because I was curious why they’d take charges instead of doing that… There has to be someone willing to adopt him. The court won’t let them make him a ward of the state voluntarily—”

  “Maybe Lonny wants to ask if you’d be interested in that,” I try again. Maybe I shouldn’t be getting his hopes up about a thing like that, but I hate to see him twisting himself in knots worrying about things that might not ever happen.

  Liam’s eyes widen, his mouth parting slightly. “You think that could be it?”

  Shit. He does sound too hopeful.

  “I think it’s just as likely as the other options,” I say, shrugging, hoping to mitigate some of the damage I’ve done.

  This is what happens when I’m not cynical. I need to leave the hope and good feelings stuff to Paul and Liam.

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right…” Liam mutters, polishing off his muffin. “Maybe it’ll be all right.”

  We don’t have to wait long for Lonny, who’s wearing his usual poorly-fitted suit that’s dusted with snow from the walk to the parsonage. Meryl recognizes the social worker and senses something’s up, looking at me and Liam curiously.

  “Brandon, honey, why don’t we go start working on tomorrow’s dinner, hmm? Too much work for one day,” she says, patting him on the arm.

  Brandon’s too smart to fall for it completely, giving us all a suspicious look even though he doesn’t argue.

  “I’m glad you were able to meet with me today,” Lonny says, clutching his briefcase in front of him.

  “Please, come in, take off your coat. Can I get you anything?”

  “No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Lonny insists, brushing off Liam’s hospitality. “I wanted to share the good news in person—I’ve found a permanent home for Brandon. His parents are willing to sign over their rights to make him adoptable.”