Chapter 38 #2
The food was delicious and abundant, and Cal suspected he and Vic enjoyed it all the more because their own Christmas Eve and Christmas Day celebrations had been more modest, less indulgent.
They were helping themselves to small seconds of an incredibly delicious chocolate cake when a cheerful voice exclaimed, “Vic! I hoped you’d be here. ”
He and Vic turned toward the voice.
“Claire! Hello! Merry day after Christmas,” Vic chimed.
“It is merry,” Claire agreed, her silver bob swinging in agreement. “There’s something so nice about the day after Christmas. It still feels festive but no pressure, you know?”
“I totally know—and let me introduce you to my . . . friend Cal.”
Claire gave him a quick, saucy once-over. “Hello, Vic’s . . . friend, Cal.”
Cal laughed. “Hello, Claire. Nice to meet you. Are you the Claire who hired Vic to paint a friend’s cat?”
“Yes! That’s me. Exactly. And that’s why I’m so excited to see you, Vic.
Lacey loved that ornery piece of perfection you created.
You captured Rumple to a T. She couldn’t believe it.
She cried, then I cried…” Claire shook her head, chuckling.
“Anyway, it was marvelous. Marvelous. Thank you. I was wondering if you had a business card. We have other friends who would love to have little portraits done.”
Vic’s eyes widened, almost, it seemed, in alarm.
Madeline, nearby chatting with another guest, must’ve noticed because she sailed over. “She’s out of cards right now, but if you come by The Second Chance Shop after we reopen in the New Year, she’ll have more.”
“Perfect, perfect! Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do. Okay, I’ll see you then! Looking forward to it! And now I’m off to have some more of that delicious punch of yours, Madeline. It’s divine. Divine!”
Claire sailed away on her quest for the divine punch, her long, flowy pink cardigan billowing behind her.
“My cards that I’m out of? That I’ll have in the New Year?” Vic bulged her eyes in comic exaggeration at Madeline.
Madeline bulged her own eyes right back at Vic. “I know. What a newbie oversight on your behalf, right? Running out cards like that.”
Vic shook her head. “I guess I’ll make cards then.”
“Perfect! And now what do the two of you say to joining in a game of Pictionary? I know it’s old school, but we’ve got a good group ready.”
“Sounds great,” Cal said, but Vic said, “Ummm . . .”
“Pretty please?” asked Madeline.
“I think you’ll like it,” Cal said softly, but didn’t want to make her feel pressured.
“I’ve never really played before.” Spots of color burned on Vic’s cheekbones.
“All the more reason,” Madeline said.
“This game was made for you,” Cal encouraged.
The rules were simple, and Vic caught on immediately. Madeline and Grant, no doubt to encourage mingling with people you didn’t know well and possibly to fuel good-hearted rivalry, had put couples on opposite teams.
After Vic’s first turn as the drawer, it was clear Cal’s team was at a huge and hilarious disadvantage—something he’d known they’d be with Vic as the opposition.
Once everyone had had a few turns and was feeling more comfortable, gentle ribbing commenced.
“Vic, would you please tell your boyfriend how to draw a rabbit?”
Vic, who’d been embarrassed by people’s praise initially, and whom Cal suspected of starting to draw more slowly, trying not to rack up as many cards per turn, said, “Oh, come on, you guys, it’s not that bad.” Then she looked at Cal—then at his artwork again—and got the giggles.
“I’m sorry,” she wheezed. “I’m sorry.”
She held her hands up beside her head, then cracked up again.
“Ears,” she gasped. “Ears. It needed bunny ears.”
Everybody playing, including Cal, was laughing uproariously now in that you-had-to-be-there way.
Cal looked at his poor rabbit that should’ve been a no-brainer five-second guess, but instead had timed out, receiving everything from dog, cat, horse, and every other animal under the sun, to the most off-the-wall and hilarious guess of them all, wheelbarrow.
It was clear that everyone found the game really silly and really, really fun. The highlight for him, though, was when Vic so clearly relaxed and broke down laughing and let herself fully be in the moment, not watching her behavior or whatever it was that she did in a larger group.
The game wound up, and a few people started playing something else, but he and Vic passed.
With a few hours of small talk, a changing stream of guests as some people left and new ones came, plus the game under his belt, Cal was more than ready to go—but he was simultaneously in no hurry to end his time with Vic.
He enjoyed listening to her participate in various conversations, though he noticed that she, like him, was more an active listener than a sharer.
When there was a break in a new conversation that she was part of with a woman with wild blonde curls who got pulled away by her daughter who needed help with something, Vic turned to him and whispered, “How are you doing? Are you ready to take off?”
Cal hesitated. He was ready to leave, but he genuinely wouldn’t mind staying if she wanted to, so finally that’s what he told her.
She beamed. “Let’s head out. I’ve enjoyed myself, but it’s been very . . . people-y for me. I’ve talked more in two hours than I usually do in two days, unless it’s to you.”
Cal felt like he was falling—and in a way, he guessed he was.
They said their goodbyes, and Madeline and Gwen both pulled Vic into a hug, which she accepted awkwardly, flushing a little.
Touched, Cal thought, but also self-conscious.
That was something that he couldn’t understand about Vic.
She genuinely seemed surprised when people showed affection or appreciation.
Then again, with Audra as her mother, it made sense—but c’mon.
She really didn’t see how talented she was? How interesting? How fun?
“Thank you so much for inviting us. It was wonderful—and the biggest social event of my year,” Vic said, making Madeline laugh.
There was yet another round of good-byes from other guests. Then a new group of people arrived at the door, and Vic and Cal used their arrival as their exit.
The temperature had dropped, and Cal wished he’d thought to start the van and let it warm up for Vic before they came out. As it was, they sat in the cold cab, waiting for the engine to heat.
“So . . .” Vic said, sounding shy. “Thank you so much for coming with me. I had a great time—and I really wouldn’t have without you.”
“Yes, you would’ve.” But he wasn’t sure, actually. And it wasn’t just ego talking. She’d stayed so close to him all afternoon that if she’d been flying solo, he wasn’t sure what she would’ve done.
She laughed a little. “No, pathetic as it is, I probably wouldn’t have gone without you.”
The van was finally warm enough to drive, but Cal held off for a moment. “I get that. And it’s not pathetic. It’s nice to have company for new things.”
“Yeah.” Vic looked out the window.
“But you’d be able to go next time without me, right? Not that you’d have to,” he added quickly. “I’ll always be happy to be your date.”
She turned back toward him. “Thank you. I’ll always be happy to have you as my date, too—and yeah, though. I think you’re right. I could attend something like that on my own now. They didn’t hate me or anything.”
Cal had to stop himself from literally shaking his head at her. “No one could hate you, Vic. Or no one sane anyway.”
She smiled, but it was a sad look.
“Hold my hand while we drive?” she asked.
“I was already planning to make it my next move.”
Seeing as it was the heart of winter in Greenridge, it was dark, of course, but it wasn’t actually that late.
“Is there . . . would you . . . I have wine—and hot chocolate—at my place,” Cal said, cringing. King of Sauve he wasn’t.
Vic, always so kind, didn’t laugh. She acted like it was a smooth, non-awkward invite.
“I’d love to come to your place for a visit—but with Christmas and Audra home alone .
. . Would you mind coming to mine for a bit instead?
We could—” She bit her lip, seemed embarrassed, but then pushed on, “watch some NCIS with my mom?”
Cal laughed. She was . . . so refreshing. He loved that she was so tender with that horrible old battleaxe.
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Does it?” Vic’s voice was dubious.
“Anything with you sounds good to me.”
Vic shook her head.
“What?”
“You are just,” Vic shook her head again, “too sweet for words, Cal Anderson.”
“In that case, how about no words? Give me a kiss, maybe?”
“I think that would be very nice,” Vic said with mock primness—and then cackled. “And Lord knows I’ll need something to get me through tonight. Watching TV with you and Audra. What am I thinking?”
She stopped teasing then and moved closer. He took her face in his hands like he’d been wanting to again, ever since that first mind-blowing kiss that had gone on and on and on all those weeks ago.
Leaning into him, she lifted her face, and he touched his lips to hers, feather-light. Fire raced through him as she pressed back, her mouth parting slightly and the tip of her tongue dancing briefly against his.
Was it seconds, minutes, half an hour? Cal had no concept of time, only desire. The sensation of falling was back as they slowly pulled apart and he put the van into Drive.
NCIS, hey? Honestly, it didn’t matter what they watched. He’d be replaying this moment over and over and just be in total bliss getting to sit near her on the couch.