Chapter 27 #2
“Snowy would have wanted this,” Cherry says, then playfully elbows me and nods over at Maxie. She’s bent over the wrapped gifts, helping a few of the kids pick out presents. “Could Maxie’s skirt be any shorter? Doesn’t she realize this event is mainly for children?”
“At least she thought to wear panties that say Naughty List . Though I think she dressed more for the afterparty.”
“I’m sure. Someone should tell her to stop bending over.”
“I don’t think some of these fathers mind all that much,” I joke, then turn my attention back to my son.
“Look at Ace.” I giggle, watching him at the dessert table as he stuffs a few more sugar cookies into his little sack before he makes another delivery to his favorite uncle.
Viking can’t leave his post until the last picture is taken.
“Santa’s little helper, though that sack is probably getting lint all over those cookies. ”
“That won’t deter Viking.” Cherry laughs. “I’ve seen him eat Thanksgiving dinner out of the trash.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“It was a while ago… Back in the Lucinda days.” She seems to explain with a little reluctance, not wanting to spoil the joyful atmosphere, but she gives in to my curiosity. “Lucinda tossed the entire holiday meal in the trash one year before anyone could even sit down to eat.”
“Why on earth would she do that?”
“She was pissed that Dean and several of the guys came late. Dean insisted she knew they had an extraction to do that night, but Lucinda wasn’t having it.
In a fit, she threw everything away. Viking picked up a fork and just started eating right out of it.
Though I suspect a big part of doing so was just to piss her off more.
” Cherry giggles. “Most of the guys got a real laugh out of it.”
“I don’t know what the hell Dean ever saw in that woman.” I sigh.
“He was young and dumb once, too, but he woke up, especially when he met you.” She smiles at me. “Some of them stay stuck on stupid a little longer than others.”
“Except Axel. He got it right on the first try.” I say, giving our road captain a little wave as he happens to glance over at us. Axel’s job tonight is helping the kids on and off Viking’s motorcycle.
“He makes a really cute elf, doesn’t he?” Cherry chuckles. “I didn’t even have to talk him into those curly elf shoes and striped leggings!”
“They pair so well with his black cargo shorts.” I laugh, then scan the crowd of smiling faces.
My gaze lands on Legion, the only person who isn’t smiling.
He’s right where Dean told him to be, guarding the donation box by the door, arms folded, holding his peppermint stick like a cigarette, occasionally flicking the end out of habit.
“I wonder how sad that donation box is going to be,” Cherry jokes, “Was that really the best job we could find for him?”
“Honestly, people probably feel a little afraid not to drop a donation.”
“You’re probably right.” She chuckles.
Ace walks over to me after a sugar cookie delivery to Santa. I grab a napkin and pick up a cookie from the tray behind us on the bar. “Do you want to bring this over to Legend? I bet he’d like one too.”
“Okay.” He takes the gingerbread man from me and ambles over to Legion, bringing a smile to his grouchy face for what might be the first time since he took up his post.
“I should probably make a few more of these mocktails for the parents,” Cherry says, gesturing to the near-empty trays. “Who knew alcohol free drinks in a bar would be such a hit?”
“Well, the parents know they’re welcome to come back later for real drinks once they’ve got their kids home safe. I’ll help you make them.”
Before I step behind the bar with her, I check on Ace, who is in his father’s arms now, and they’re dancing to The Jackson Five’s Santa Claus is Coming to Town .
I f not for the way the festivities of this night have brought such animated glee to Vanna’s lovely face, it would have been absolute torture.
At the conclusion of this community Christmas event, the prospects were tasked with gathering the remaining gifts into a box van full of additional presents destined for Toys for Tots come morning. Or so I’ve overheard.
Now, as I watch her within his arms, laughing while he spins her around the room, this night is feeling more and more like an eternity.
I try not to let him catch me watching them, but I find her radiant, magnetic smile difficult to divert my gaze from, hoping for a glance, a moment when her eyes find mine, and if they do, will she think of the night we danced?
I wonder if she’s aware of the significance of a dance.
The act involves far more than bodies swaying, feet tracing steps in repetition to a rhythm.
There’s a deeper connection. It’s a conversation without words.
A dance can reveal a lot about a relationship…
The way they move together tells me things I wish I could ignore.
There are reasons I did not linger to witness their wedding dance.
The way they are so in tune with each other now, even to a Christmas song , every step, every breath, I cannot deny the fact that they were made to move together.
If I were capable, I’d admit a certain beauty to it. In truth, I hate it .
Her playful laughter rings out above the music, a cruel melody of its own as she glides across the floor within his protective, loving embrace, blissfully unaware of the longing ache I feel. Has she ever felt such agony? Ever pined for something she couldn’t have?
La douleur exquise…
Puppet’s words echo within the dark recesses of my mind… Yes, perhaps she is acquainted … And perhaps her longing for what he will not grant will prove advantageous to me…
Time crawls like a fucking prison sentence, and I grow more restless at the sight of her dark eyes practically sparkling with joy.
Maybe it’s the string lights and glittery ornaments dripping all over this bar, but still.
He twirls her around, then pulls her close and dips her back.
She grips his shoulder, and bitterness surges within as I fixate on the way her fingers dig into his body…
I swallow it down along with the burning desire to feel her hands on me that way.
Keegan gazes at her like she’s his world, and I curse myself for allowing her to have become mine as well.
I drag my gaze from her to check my watch. It’s nearly time to take my leave. To my surprise, when I lift my eyes, she’s standing before me.
“Would you like to cash in your rain check?” she asks with a friendly smile, unaware of the way her offer cuts me.
I wonder if the several cocktails she’s consumed tonight have influenced this offer. I’ve been keeping a watchful eye on that detail as well. Perhaps three is our lucky number…
I scan the room for Keegan’s whereabouts, and I’m not surprised to find he’s stepped out.
Ace is no longer with Cherry, either. Keegan must have brought the young one to bed.
Is he aware of his wife’s intention to offer me a dance?
Or did she simply wait until he wasn’t around to witness her proposition?
Maybe even the dance itself. I find myself conflicted on the matter as I shift my gaze back to Vanna.
“Tempting, sweet one. Though if I don’t make my departure now, I’ll be late for a hot date.”
Surprise graces her features for a moment before she manages to compose herself, even despite her consumption of Christmas cocktails… It’s four, then, I note. I also can’t help but note an inkling of something else behind her surprise… Dare I venture to say, displeasure?
“ Oh , well, I hope you have a very merry evening.” Though I’m quite positive it’s forced, she smiles pleasantly.
“And I hope you continue to enjoy yours as well.” My words are hollow, but I offer them nonetheless with a slight bow.
She stares skeptically, in thought for a moment, then sighs. “I didn’t want you to feel left out. Don’t say I didn’t offer you a dance.”
I remove the elven getup from my head, which I only wore to please Vanna, and hand her the hat and elf ears.
“You offered me an obligatory lap around the room,” I correct her.
Vanna takes the items then crosses her arms, puzzled and annoyed.
“I don’t want to pretend with you. I shall request the fulfilment of the dance I paid for at my own discretion.
Now, if I have fulfilled my role this evening to your liking and approval, there is someone waiting for me. ”
“Well, don’t let me keep you from her.”
If I weren’t so enamored with my little witch, I might have missed the subcurrent of hostility in Vanna’s words, the faint trace of delicious jealousy.
The absolute audaciousness of this woman!
I could laugh, considering where we stand in our present situation.
The fact that she seems displeased by the notion of another woman in my life exalts me.
Though I must summon the will to minimize my enthusiasm over her territorial display, minute as it is.
It’s still something. It’s progress. I’d love nothing more than to succumb to the nearly overwhelming desire to field her mind and interrogate her over this welcome but unanticipated reaction.
I want so badly to dissect her take on the dance we’ve danced since our first meeting.
To inquire whether or not love is supposed to be this way?
Letting someone else take the lead, even when you’re the one who’s left standing still…
How does it feel, Vanna? How do I make you feel?
“Why are you staring at me like that?” she demands, eyes narrowing, and I can’t help but grin. Women always want to be wanted.
“ Would you have it any other way , sweet one?”
T he crisp December air relentlessly bites at my face while I ride toward the border of Bermuda County.
There is an unfamiliar, albeit undeniable warmth that rivals the desert heat radiating within my being.
Vanna does feel something for me . My elation at the thought of her wrestling with her guilty conscience over the way she feels about a potential woman in my life is suddenly soured by Stanley’s rung-out and disheveled state.
I catch sight of him waiting by his van and pull into the small clearing of the wooded lot where we arranged this meeting tonight.
I’m not sure how much longer he will be of use.
I park my Indian and dismount. “Come now, Stanley, we’ve been over this. One must attempt to keep up appearances, or one might draw unwanted attention upon oneself.” I sigh as he nervously approaches, dragging a trembling hand down his ragged face.
The moment I hear the van door open, I realize we’re both fucked, and I reach for the Sig tucked in my jacket. Before I can pull my weapon, the barrel of a gun presses against the back of my skull, and two masked men with guns of their own emerge from the darkness of the van.
“To our detriment, it seems I’ve bestowed this sage advice upon you a bit too late.” I sigh, raising my hands in begrudging surrender. “Stanley, what have you done?”
The gun remains firmly planted to my occipital bone, while another set of hands roughly pats me down, removing the weaponry from my person along the way. I watch as Stanley is zip-tied and a black hood is roughly pulled over his head, before I feel a hard blow against the back of mine.