Chapter 21 #2
Mom laughed. “I wasn’t up for much, but I made vanilla and chocolate gobs.
They’re in the fridge. A fruit cake, no rum sauce this year, just regular icing.
And I have candy and icing for our gingerbread gentlemen.
” She pointed out candy in containers along the back of the counter. “Wash your hands first.”
Ren looked at me, as if checking to make sure she was serious, and he only moved toward the sink when I nodded.
I pushed up the sleeves of my sweater, a thick blue one that wasn’t all that different from Mom’s, and took my turn with the soap and water. “Thanks, Mom. You know I love this stuff.”
Ren opened a container of gumdrops that were destined to become buttons for the gingerbread men and popped one into his mouth. “I’ve never decorated Christmas cookies.”
“We do it every year.” She seemed happier now that she was laying out cookies that had already cooled on plates in front of us like we were five instead of in our twenties.
KC started right away, using some chocolate chips that he dipped in a bowl of icing Mom had put in front of him. They became eyes.
“How’s football going?” she asked, probably thinking that was a safe topic to start a conversation. She leaned forward so she could see KC’s face, but he grimaced. My heart leaped. Before I could say anything to stop this train wreck, she barreled on. “Was it a bad season?”
Ren cleared his throat. “KC had to step back for health reasons.” The look he sent Mom was borderline homicidal, and I elbowed him.
“The situation is new. Sorry I didn’t say,” I mumbled.
“No problem.” KC smiled, but he wasn’t as happy as he’d been prior to the topic of football coming up.
Mom scooted around me and hugged him.
He gasped and stepped back, glancing at her belly with his eyebrows raised.
She giggled. “I know. The shirt hides it, but I’m starting to get a bump. Tell me about yourself, Ren.”
He looked affronted at suddenly becoming the center of attention, and I grinned when I realized he’d just been eating candy instead of decorating. “ ’M a tattoo artist,” he said around a few gumdrops.
“I never would’ve guessed.” She winked at him.
Warmth wormed through me. I’d missed her so much.
I wasn’t sure how I was feeling about everything, but I wanted to have a good time.
It was a holiday. I could be mad later if it turned out I didn’t like what she had to say about Dad or anything else.
She’d spent over twenty years putting me first. I could probably come to terms with the fact that she was human.
An hour later, we were adding the finishing touches on our gingerbread men.
Ren wasn’t even pretending to work anymore.
Instead, he was destroying a piled-up plate of our hard work.
KC watched him with a wrinkle on his cute nose, so I put the cookie I’d been thinking about eating in the plastic container Mom was filling.
If not gobbling up gingerbread men might help KC, I wouldn’t stuff my face in front of him.
Ren didn’t notice or maybe had his own ideas about what was best for KC.
Or hell, maybe he was just hungry.
I was searching for something to say to distract KC from what Ren was doing, but all I landed on was “It doesn’t seem like Dad is here.”
Ren coughed, and KC patted his back. Mom closed the container of cookies with a lot more focus than the task required.
“Where is he?” I asked.
Mom went over to the table and pulled out a chair. She collapsed more than sat. “I told him.” She sounded so hurt. So ripped apart.
My hands curled into fists. “That piece of shit.”
She waved a hand at me. “I loved him. I guess I always will. But some people just aren’t built for family.”
A horrible silence stretched thin around us.
“Do you think you’ll want your room?” She shifted to face me and perked up.
“No. Why?”
Ren wrapped his arm around me, and KC hugged me from behind. I melted into their care and protection. I was fine, doing better than I’d thought I would, actually, but it was all because they were here with me.
“Well . . . . Since you seem happy where you’re at, I thought I might make it a nursery, but I won’t if that would upset you,” she said in a rush that made me feel slightly guilty.
“It’s okay.”
KC squeezed my middle.
“Good. I’ve had the decorating bug.” She flushed and her face matched her holiday skirt. “I already started priming the walls and stuff.”
“What?” I tossed up my hands. “You aren’t crawling up on a ladder in here, are you?” I shot toward my room—I guess the baby’s room now. There was nothing inside except drop cloths, cans of paint, rollers, and paint pans.
“Um. Where is the stuff I left here?” My stomach was a pit, but I wasn’t sure if it was because a space I’d thought of as mine had vanished or if it was due to the stepladder I finally spotted in a corner behind me. The walls had been patched and they were an odd light gray.
“Your dad boxed everything up and put it in the garage. I moved the bed. And it’s fine that I did.” She rolled her eyes. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her do that.
KC touched a large white patch on the wall. “What happened here?”
I frowned at the covered-up damage. “Yeah, Mom. There was no hole when I left.”
She sighed and bowed her head like she was extremely tired.
Ren ran his fingers around the spot. “What did that dickhead do?”
Mom leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “Put his fist through the drywall when I told him. But I’ve fixed up enough crappy apartments. One hole is nothing.” She flashed around a toothy smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Too bad he didn’t hit a stud,” Ren muttered.
“What?” KC asked. His face contorted, and I’d never heard that angry edge in his voice. “Are you okay?” He rested a hand on her small shoulder.
“He didn’t take a swing at me. He was just upset.” She flicked her fingers at the patched wall as if she wanted to make it vanish, and if she’d painted yesterday, she would’ve.
“No, he just busted up your house.” Ren’s tone was dark, and a twisted part of me loved it. I wanted him to be pissed off because I was sure as hell mad that Dad had done that around Mom, especially knowing she was knocked up with his second kid.
“We can paint. Let us do it,” KC said, perking up at the idea of a project. He glanced around and his body language shifted the way it did when he was in the gym or on the field. He was ready to kick ass and slap down paint.
Ren crowded in next to us. “Did you ever apologize to Oliver for picking that deadbeat over him?” He stared directly into Mom’s eyes, and I shivered. Had anyone ever cared enough about me to glare at someone like that? I was one hundred percent sure he was the first.
But this was still my mom. “Leave it,” I snapped.
“Kitten, you deserve a real apology.”
Mom dove in for another hug, and Ren settled his hand on the back of my neck. “I truly thought your dad would calm down, and we would have a family Christmas. It was dumb. I don’t know why I held on to the idea of him coming back all those years. It was something I wanted so bad.”
“It hurt when you picked him.”
Ren maneuvered me into his arms, and Mom patted his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
The sound of someone shaking a can of paint pulled everyone’s attention to KC. My hands itched to run all over his chest. There was something about the confident way he stood that made me want to get on my knees. “We’re here. Let’s make this a painting party.”
Mom groaned. “I didn’t invite you here to work, I swear.”
“Fuck it.” Ren peeled his long-sleeved shirt off, leaving him in a skintight white undershirt that made my mouth water. “Let’s do this.”
He was trying to torture me.
Mom gave me wide eyes, then glanced back at him with a saucy smile, and I groaned. Well, that officially ruined the semi that had been brewing in my boxers.
Time flew by as we painted and talked. Mom brought us drinks and sandwiches. As we were finishing up the final touches, I realized she’d been gone for a while, but we’d been so focused on the job it hadn’t really registered.
We all sat our asses on the floor and took in the vista of baby blue with pink sparkles that gleamed at us from every angle.
“I guess she thought this covered all the bases.” Ren nudged me with his elbow.
“It’s very Mom.” I gave him a tired grin.
KC went timber, and I smiled down at him as he nestled his head into my lap. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell us about your mom and the baby because of me.” Now that the work was done, his brain was spinning again.
I brushed my hand through his pretty red hair and fought back a wave of emotions. “I just don’t want the baby to be messed up about Dad like I was.”
Ren tugged on one of my curls. “We’ll be here. It’ll be okay.”
“You aren’t going to run home to LA?” I swatted at him.
“Nah. I’m staying.”
Tears did their best to escape, but I wiped them away with the back of my hand.
“Me too,” KC whispered.
“Promise?”
They both grunted tiredly, and all I could do was chuckle. This had been the weirdest and best Christmas Eve ever.
“There were stockings with our names on them hanging on the mantel. Did she really get us presents?” KC asked, sounding wistful.
“Oh yeah! I’m sure she did. Let’s go find her. She’ll let us open them.”
“Really?” KC sat up in a flash, his tiredness long gone.
“Yep,” I said, already missing his weight against my body.
He hopped to his feet and rushed out into the living room.
All I could do was snicker as I let Ren peel me off the floor. Yes, this was the weirdest, best Christmas Eve ever.