Rated: X-mas: Twice Blessed (2 page)

She drove on for six more hours that day. With each glance in the rearview mirror, she told herself that she wasn’t watching for an old, beat-up blue pickup. The handsome strangers never reappeared, and she spent the rest of her trip to California trying to convince herself that she wasn’t disappointed.

6 Rachel Bo

Invitation

Jenny tucked her socks into her sneakers and set off down the beach, relishing the feel of cool, damp sand beneath her toes. There was a brisk breeze off the ocean today, and she pulled her windbreaker close around her, tugging up the zipper. Santa Monica in November beat New York in winter any day, but it could still get chilly, and the spray off the surf made it colder still. But Jenny always came to the beach when she needed to think.

In just two short hours, Hartmann Historical Designs was closing down for the holidays, and she still hadn’t decided whether to accept her parents’ invitation. After seven long years, her mom and dad had finally forgiven her for abandoning her career and coming out to California to live with the “beatniks.” She giggled. Even for their own generation, her parents were a bit antiquated.

Her mother had called two weeks earlier, after Jenny had written them a letter explaining that she’d be at loose ends for six weeks, to invite her to spend that time in New York. Jenny was torn, however. For one thing, she liked the mild California winters. She had never missed the cold, rain, sleet, and freezing temperatures of a New York City winter.

Now, the snow at the cabin in Connecticut, that she sometimes missed; but apparently her

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parents had a whirlwind round of party obligations this holiday season, and they were staying in New York.

Which was another reason why she was reluctant to go. She’d never been the social butterfly her parents were -- especially her dad. The idea of having to suffer through those interminable parties made her skin crawl.

But she missed her parents. She’d been surprised at the sudden surge of emotion that flooded her when she heard her mother’s voice on the phone. In all these years, she’d had only Christmas and birthday cards from her parents, even though she’d written them letters faithfully, every few months or so, letting them know how she was doing. Hearing her mother’s voice had brought tears to her eyes, and even her father had picked up the extension long enough to say hello and let her know that, yes, he wanted her there, too.

A wavelet that was more ambitious than the rest folded over Jenny’s feet, and she worked her toes deep into the swirling sand. Who was she kidding? She had to go. She wanted to see them. They did love her, whatever they thought of her chosen career. And she loved them. And none of them were getting any younger.

Her mind made up, she veered toward a wooden bench and sat down to let her feet dry so she could tug on her shoes. Then she recovered her car from the parking lot and made her way back to work.

She opened the door to her office to hear Christmas music blaring on the radio, and to the sight of her assistant, Becca, dancing around the room and singing at the top of her lungs.

When Becca caught sight of Jenny, she let out a squeal and ran over to grasp Jenny’s arms and jump up and down. “We got it! We got it!”

Jenny knew immediately what she was talking about, but she couldn’t quite believe it.

“B&B Productions? We got it?”

“Yes!” Becca squealed, still jumping up and down. “Yes, yes, yes!”

8 Rachel Bo

Jenny closed her eyes as a flood of joy mingled with relief washed over her. Finally.

They had finally managed to bag a contract with a powerhouse Hollywood company to do the costume design and production for a major motion picture.

“Darn it, Becca! I wanted to tell her.”

Jenny turned at the sound of Carol Hartmann’s voice. The robust, buxom blonde stepped into the room and gave Jenny a quick hug. “You did it,” Carol insisted. “Michael said B&B loved your designs. It’s written into the contract, at their insistence -- not that they had to twist my arm -- you’re lead project designer, kiddo!”

“I can’t believe it.” Jenny sighed. “This is great!”

“What you won’t believe is our budget, Jen. It’s to die for! We’ve never had a contract like this. We’re finally a major player!”

Jenny frowned, the reality of the situation finally beginning to hit her. “If we manage all right. We could still screw it up.”

Becca laughed. “No way. I know you, Jen. You won’t give any of us any peace once this project gets under way. You’ll sew every stitch yourself if you have to.” She put one arm around each of her bosses. “Everything’s going to be fine!”

Carol smiled. “Becca’s right, Jen. I want you to use this time off to relax. I need you back here in January, fresh and focused. Carlos is coming in our first day back so you can go over the fabric orders with him, and I’m advertising for additional seamstresses to help carry the load. I’ll hold the best apps for you to look over when we get back, then we’ll set up some interviews.”

Jenny nodded confidently, though her head was already filling with images of possible disasters. “Okay. I’ll be ready.” She grinned wryly. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m going to New York. If I were staying here, I’d end up worrying so much, I’d be a basketcase by the time you guys came back.”

“So you decided to go?” Becca asked.

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“Yeah.” Jenny shook her head. “It was silly to worry about it. I’m thirty-five years old.

It might be awkward the first day or so, but they did make the overture, so at least one of them must be ready to hear what I have to say. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with our only contact being a couple of cards and letters a year.”

“Good.” Carol and Becca shared a glance. “We were hoping that’s what you’d decide.”

Carol glanced at the wall clock. “Hey! It’s six-o-one, and we are now officially on vacation.”

“Why don’t we all go to dinner together?” Jenny suggested. “We’re all going to be out of town at different times, so this will be our last chance to get together until the holidays are over.”

“Sure,” Carol and Becca said simultaneously. Carol laughed. “Let me go grab my purse and then we’ll lock up.”

10 Rachel Bo

Homecoming

LaGuardia Airport was packed with holiday travelers, and Jenny sighed as she squeezed her way past yet another cluster of human congestion. Breathing a sigh of relief as she spotted the exit, she quickly made her way outside, hailing the first taxi driver she saw. The man hurried over and took her suitcase, deposited it in the trunk, and helped Jenny into the back seat.

“Nichols Park.” She gave him the name of the upscale suburb her parents called home.

“1312 Stamden.” The cabbie nodded and touched the meter, then pulled out. Jenny relaxed back against the seat.

Her parents had offered to pick her up, but it was so much easier to take a cab.

Especially with airport security so tight now. She tugged the book she was currently reading out of her purse, switched on the tiny book light she had purchased in the gift shop, and occupied herself with the story for the remainder of the hour-long drive home.

After she paid the cabbie and he had driven off, Jenny stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the house in the fading evening light. A four-inch layer of snow covered the front yard.

She’d forgotten how beautiful the place could be in winter. A golden glow from the windows

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beckoned, and she lifted her suitcase and trekked up the steps carefully. The front door opened even before she had a chance to ring the doorbell.

“Jenny!” Meredith Dalton embraced her daughter warmly. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“Me, too, Mom.” Jenny hugged her tight.

“Well.” Meredith pulled back after a moment. “Come in! Don’t stand out there in the cold.”

Jenny stepped into the foyer, greeting the man standing in the archway into the living room. “Hi, Dad.”

Scott Dalton nodded stiffly. “Jenny.”

They stood, staring at each other awkwardly.

“Scott.” Meredith’s tone was an admonishment. “Don’t you have something to say?”

Jenny’s father frowned. “I can’t help it, Meredith. I guess I’m still a little angry.”

“Scott, you promised not to --”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Jenny interrupted. “We might as well go ahead and get everything out in the open and get it dealt with, so we can enjoy the rest of the visit.” Her mother pushed the front door shut as Jenny stepped forward and faced her father squarely.

“I’m sorry you feel like you wasted your money, Dad. But I tried to tell you what I really wanted, and you wouldn’t listen.” Jenny reached out and rested a hand on his arm.

“And it wasn’t really a waste. Nursing supported me very well while I continued to study, and I’m grateful for that. But I love what I’m doing now, and I don’t regret making the decision to change careers. I hope you can understand.”

Her father’s expression softened. “It’s just -- did it have to be the entertainment business, Jen? You know how those people are.”

She couldn’t contain the deep, rich laugh that seemed to startle her father. “Dad, I think you have the wrong idea about how involved I am in the industry. I design and make

12 Rachel Bo

period costumes for theatrical productions, S.C.A. enthusiasts, a few businesses that are themed to a particular time period. As a matter of fact, up until last week, we’d never landed a contract for a major Hollywood film.” She put her arm around him. “I’m thirty-five years old, Dad. I’m not out partying and being propositioned -- I’m in my office or the sewing room, working my butt off to dress people I never even see.”

Scott grinned sheepishly. “I guess I never really thought about it.” He put his arm around her. “But am I allowed to hate the fact that you have to live on the other side of the continent in order to do this?”

“Mmmm ... yeah, as long as you don’t hate me.”

Her father tightened his grip on her shoulders, holding her close. “Never, sweetie.” He sighed. “What can I say? Your old man’s a control freak, and it took me a while to absorb the fact that you weren’t going to just up and move back and do what I wanted you to do.”

Meredith stepped forward, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Scott.” She reached up and cupped his face with her hand.

Jenny’s father cleared his throat. “Okay, now. None of this weepy-weep stuff. Let’s get Jenny situated, and then I’m taking you both out to dinner.”

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Caught

“Jenny? What do you think?”

Jenny stared at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. The silver gown shimmered as she moved, accentuating the soft mounds of her breasts, glinting from the curve of her hips. She couldn’t believe she could wear something like this and pull it off, but she had to admit, it suited her perfectly. Her mother had done an excellent job.

“I hope I wasn’t too presumptuous.” Meredith fluttered her hands nervously, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles in her own gown. “I just thought, from your letters, that you didn’t really go to functions like this any more, and I was afraid you might not have anything to wear, and ... oh, you’re not angry, are you? Scott thought you might feel like we were treating you like a charity case, but parents should be able to buy gifts for their children, shouldn’t they? And we’ve got seven years of gift-giving to catch up on, and --”

“Mom.” Jenny met her mother’s eyes in the mirror. “It’s beautiful. And it doesn’t feel like charity.” She laughed. “I’m relieved, actually. I knew before I headed out here that we had all those parties to go to, and it never even occurred to me to shop for anything appropriate. I guess I was more preoccupied with how things were going to go between us.

I’m just glad I don’t have to wear a sack to Uncle Frank’s tonight.”

14 Rachel Bo

Meredith clapped her hands together. “So you like it?”

Jenny turned back to the mirror. “I love it.”

“Good. And ... well, I have to confess, there are a couple more dresses for you hidden away in my closet.” Jenny raised her eyebrows. “Well, there’s the dinner at the chairman’s house next week, and Junie’s annual Christmas party, and --”

She looked so worried that Jenny had to laugh again. “It’s all right, Mom. I appreciate it; I really do. But don’t buy any more, okay? If I don’t have what I need, we can go shopping together, and I’ll pay for it.”

Meredith nodded. “Oh, hurry up. I can’t wait to show you off!”

Jenny shook her head as she picked up the little silver handbag that went with the dress. “I swear, you’re making me feel like a little kid again!” Her tone was chiding, but as they made their way downstairs, she was forced to admit to herself that she was actually enjoying being her parents’ little girl again.

* * * * *

Three hours later, standing in a corner of her uncle’s crowded living room, choking on smoke and perfume, she was having second thoughts. She had remembered hating these things, but over the years, her mind had glossed over exactly how out of place she felt among her family’s friends and relatives. Despite her upbringing, she considered herself a simple girl, with simple tastes. She’d never been into the party rounds, the plastic surgery, the smoking. After the initial introductions, she’d found herself without anything to say to these people, hiding out in a secluded corner, as she had when she was young.

And it didn’t help that she kept sensing that she was being watched. Several times, she’d had such an intense feeling of being observed that she’d almost felt ... stalked. But when she scanned the room, there were no sudden turns of the head, no whispered conversations. It was probably just nerves. Maybe a little fresh air would help -- the room was stifling.

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Jenny edged her way through the crowd to the French doors that let out onto the garden. They were partially opened, to help alleviate the heat created by the crush of people, so she slipped out onto the flagstone patio.

It was a clear, cold night. Moonlight bathed the garden with opal radiance, and Jenny found herself drawn to the fountain. She picked her way carefully down the steps, then walked over and stared at her reflection in the shimmering waters.