Chapter 50 Misty
MISTY
“You’re a terrible hitman,” I hear my sister say. I scream awake, shove the blanket off of me, realize I’m not wearing any clothes under the blanket, and pull it back up to my chin.
Talbot sits up on the couch. He looks like sex when he wakes up. I look like I just dug myself out of a crypt.
Lucy gives him an appreciative glance.
“Lucy, stop ogling him.”
“You guys had sex on the couch.”
“You don’t know that.” I throw a pillow at her.
“Your clothes are all over the floor. And he didn’t even hear me come in. Like I said, terrible hitman.” She squints at my hair. “I thought Sienna was going to book you an appointment at her fancy salon. You’re lucky he showed up when it was dark and didn’t have to see that.”
“Oh my god.” I pull a pillow over my head. “I need to go change.”
“Really?” Talbot peppers kisses along my chest. “We could go another round.”
The front door slams open. “Merry Christmas! Happy birthday!”
“Granny, don’t wake everyone up!”
“I have food in the car.” Granny Keagan putters around, picking up the clothes off the floor. “We need to put the breakfast casserole in the oven for brunch. Talbot, I brought the fixings for holiday mojitos, if you can do the honors. There are five gallons of white rum in my trunk.”
She stops in front of the fireplace. “Where’s your stocking, Misty? I have a few little stuffers for you.”
“Did Santa come?” Noah, the four-year-old, stands in the doorway to the living room and rubs his eyes.
“Go back to bed,” I hiss at him.
His eyes light up when he sees Cocoa sprawled out before the banked fire. “A puppy!” He screams. “Santa brought me a puppy!”
“What the—”
“Missing a few screws? Aggressive? Another future hockey player.” Talbot smirks and kisses me.
Granny Keagan tosses Talbot his boxers. “Lucy, where is Misty’s stocking? I gotta off-load these condoms—seems Misty’s gonna need ’em.”
“She hides it in the laundry room cabinet.” Lucy runs off.
Talbot pulls on his shorts.
“Look, why don’t I make you some extra-special Christmas hot chocolate, and you go to bed,” I beg Noah, who is already eyeing the presents under the tree.
More footsteps on the stairs. I cringe.
The worst happens. Ryan pokes his head in the living room.
“Merry Christmas and happy birthday, Misty. Talbot. Got your present early, I see.” He snickers.
The four-year-old catches on. “Happy birthday, happy birthday,” he chirps, jumping around me. “It’s Christmas and your birthday!”
“I’m going to pick up my mother.” Ryan tosses his keys up and catches them. “She wants to watch you all open presents, Noah, so don’t touch them.”
“I can’t wait for presents.” Noah flops down on the floor.
I leave the kids with Talbot and rush upstairs to try to make myself look somewhat presentable for Christmas morning.
Then I’m dressed, racing down the stairs as shrieking starts. “You could have started opening presents without me,” I tell them. But the screaming isn’t from anxious children wanting their gifts.
“Behold!” Granny Keagan has a slab of wood with a bloody hand on it.
I have to sit down on an ottoman.
“It’s Austen’s hand!” Lucy screams.
“What the hell?”
“A travesty, and on Christmas morning.” Pamela presses a hand to her chest.
“Happy birthday!” the four-year-old shrieks, jumping in front of me while the baby claps his hands.
“I made it out of red velvet cake,” Granny Keagan brags, “and fondant. Took me all night. Looks realistic, don’t it? Let’s ask our resident expert.” She shoves the cake under Talbot’s nose.
“I think we need to all agree to keep that under wraps,” Ryan whispers.
“Yeah, Talbot’s working at the Tinsel & Toast. He’s on the straight and narrow,” I say firmly.
“So you’re staying?” Ryan asks.
“Part-time.”
“Have some cake—it’s Misty’s birthday!” Lucy starts sticking candles in the hand.
“Let’s do the cake after brunch.” I whisk it away. “Talbot, how are those drinks coming?”
“Misty, can we eat now?” Mason flops on the couch.
“No, there are presents!” Caleb begs.
“You better not have gotten Lucy anything for Christmas,” Brielle complains. “She’s such a brat.”
“Presents!” the four-year-old squeals.
“Okay, I have the camera out.” My mom points it at the fireplace. “Why don’t you see what Santa brought you?”
My brothers all jump on the stockings.
“Boys!” Ryan thunders.
“You mean what Misty brought you,” Lucy says.
“Wait, you’re Santa Claus?” the four-year-old demands.
“No, just, um, friends and neighbors.”
He looks to Talbot, who’s wearing a too-tight “Kiss Me, I Serve Alcohol” T-shirt and a Santa hat. “You’re Santa Claus?”
“He’s the furthest thing from it,” Aunt Kathy says with a sniff.
“Here’s your stocking.” Mason hands it to Noah.
Caleb helps the baby open his, and Jaxon dumps Cocoa’s out on the floor for her.
Which is fine by me because I need to do triage on whatever the hell Granny Keagan snuck in my stocking.
I stuff the sex toys behind the credenza and make a mental note to fish them out later.
As per usual, the younger kids get the majority of the gifts, though Mason cleans up.
Wrapping paper is everywhere. Talbot passes out drinks to the adults and uses every excuse to kiss me or touch me when he passes by me.
Brielle complains loudly about her gifts, but that’s to be expected. I mean, what kind of Christmas is it when your dad only buys you a new car and a new Birkin bag?
Cocoa is rustling through the wrapping paper when the doorbell rings.
Sienna and her family are standing outside.
“Merry Christmas!” my friend cries, hefting a savory bread pudding in her arms.
“I’ll take that to the kitchen.”
“It’s your birthday, Misty.” Mike shakes his head. “We can do it.”
“Did we miss the cake?” Sienna hugs me and hands me a present. “Happy birthday-slash-Merry Christmas.”
“Ooh!” She sees Talbot in that sinfully tight shirt and barefoot, carrying a tray of drinks easily in one hand. “Merry Christmas.”
Sienna takes a drink. “So, I hear you’re going to Seattle together?”
“No.” I sigh happily. “He’s going to work in the café.”
Granny Keagan whoops. “I just got good news on Facebook.”
“Shocking.” Sienna grabs more alcohol.
“It’s a Christmas miracle! Janine finally declared bankruptcy, and that roach motel of a café she’s running will be mine for the taking.” She rubs her hands together. “Strip club, here I come. How do you like me now, city hall?”
Grandma Pam clutches her chest. “I’m having a heart attack.”
“Whoo-hoo!” Gran pumps her fist.
“I actually,” Talbot interjects smoothly, “was thinking about opening up a cheese shop. Sounds like the perfect location.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Pamela says. “Bless you. Oh, I feel much better now.”
Granny Keagan waves the cheese knife at Talbot, who raises his hands. “You’re quickly moving up on my shit list, sonny. Paid you all that money—I ain’t seen one corpse yet.”
The doorbell rings again.
Talbot peers out the windows. “What the hell are they doing here?” my boyfriend complains.
I open the front door while Ryan yells at Jaxon for burning wrapping paper in the fireplace.
“Oh!”
Talbot’s siblings stand at the door.
“We are Talbot’s beloved family.” Elsa rocks on her feet.
“We’re not here for food,” Anderson promises as I invite them in.
They take off their shoes and pad behind me to the living room.
“They want signed merch.” Talbot scowls as he tops off Aunt Kathy’s drink.
“Good, keep ’em drunk—that’s the only way this holiday is tolerable!” Gran declares.
Still scowling, Talbot says, “Misty, tell them you’ll set the dogs on them.”
Cocoa side-eyes Talbot. She’s got her snack, her new chew toy, a doggie version of eggnog, and is snuggled on a chair under a blanket arranged by my younger brothers. She’s not chasing anyone.
Ryan West and Mike Ternan shake hands with Talbot’s siblings. They are in awe.
“We brought Christmas gifts.”
“Is it Austen’s head?” Granny Keagan jumps up.
“So, we hear you played hockey with Talbot,” Jake says carefully to Ryan.
“Did you think he sucked?” Elsa demands as Ryan patiently signs the Harbor Hawks merch.
“He was pretty good.”
“I could have made it in the NHL,” Talbot scoffs at his siblings.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Ryan smirks.
Sienna comes in from the kitchen. “Oh! There are more of you.” She looks Talbot’s brothers up and down then back up.
“I’m single.” Jake raises his hand.
“He just learned how to drink out of a cup. He’s too young for you,” Talbot jokes.
“No, you don’t look a day over twenty,” Jake purrs.
Sienna preens.
“We wanted to see if you wanted to stop by Hudson’s semi–open house Christmas,” Elsa offers, “later today.”
“Bring Cocoa,” Jake begs.
“She’s not going to like all the pugs.” Talbot shakes his head.
“You have pugs?” Ryan grins at Hudson.
Talbot’s huge brother squirms.
“Stay and have some snacks and a drink, at least,” I offer.
“No, they need to leave.” Talbot tries to shoo them to the door.
“But we have all this food.” I kiss him.
“Only for you, Gumdrop.” He glares at his brothers.
“Great.” Elsa pulls out a bunch of paperwork. “I can sign you up for my beer-league team, then, Misty.”
My mom passes out the spinach-artichoke Christmas tree skewers I made last night and accepts compliments from everyone, especially on the little cheese stars on top that I painstakingly cut out.
My brothers and the rookies crowd around Talbot for fighting tips. “Since he is a you-know-what.”
Talbot and his brothers start an impromptu lesson in the middle of the living room about the merits of grappling versus boxing on the ice.
Ryan gives a sharp, piercing coach’s whistle. “Before you completely destroy my house, I have one final present.” He approaches me.
“Misty.” Ryan hands me a flat box. “Here’s your present—it’s birthday-slash-Christmas.”
“Thanks, Ryan.” I give him a hug.
“You didn’t even open it yet.”
I carefully take off the wrapping paper. Inside is a key with IOU on it and a miniature house on a keychain.
“Oh, well, this is cute. Is it ceramic? Looks handmade.”
“No.” Ryan looks exasperated. “I’m going to buy you a house, Misty.”
“What?” Brielle is furious. “Why does she get a house?”
“Well”—Ryan gestures—“looks like she’s going to get married soon—for real this time, I hope.”
“Yes, sir.” Talbot nods.
I’m nearly speechless. “Oh, that’s—that’s too much, Ryan.”
“You deserve it, kiddo.” He gives me a crushing hug. He smirks. “Also, your mom has been very anxious about the thought of you moving too far away.”
“Can I come live with you?” Mason begs.
“Me too!” Lucy cries.
“Yes, get them out of here,” Brielle screeches.
I pick up the wrapping paper before Mason or one of the rookies slips on it and ends up on the injured reserve.
A house. For me and Talbot.
“So does this mean,” Talbot whispers in my ear, “that my days of fucking you in your childhood bedroom are numbered?”
I swat him. He grabs me around the waist, kisses me.
“Mistletoe.”
I shove him again. He just laughs and points up.
“Mistletoe. I love you, Mistletoe.” He kisses me again.
“I hate you.”
He kisses me deeper. “No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t. I love you, Talbot.”
I sway in his arms as Sienna’s mom, who is pretty and talented, plays Christmas carols on the grand piano.
“This was a nice Christmas. Maybe the best Christmas ever.” I close my eyes, sink into the warmth of him.
“Um, Gumdrop...” Talbot stills. “I think those are your panties in the Christmas tree.”
“Go get them.”
Too late. The yelling starts.
“Classless!”
“And on Christmas!”
Lucy snickers. “It was on the couch you’re sitting on!”
“I feel faint. Take me home, Ryan,” Pamela demands.
“If I knew all it took was underwear to do you in, I would have festooned the tree with it years ago.” Granny Keagan hops around.
“Okay, maybe not the best Christmas.” I wince as Aunt Kathy lays into my mom while Granny Keagan throws handfuls of nuts at her.
Talbot grins. “But not the worst either!”