Chapter 3 #2
“Actually, you have to,” said Scarlet. “I didn’t tell you. I called the station this afternoon and left a message.”
Oh, no. What had her daughter done? “What kind of message?” Nola asked.
“I just told them that I knew the perfect person to come on the show and debate Parker Black. If he wasn’t too chicken. I
gave them your name and the name of the bookstore.”
“Yes!” Bettina cheered.
Nola frowned at her impetuous older daughter. “Scarlet, I wish you’d consulted me before you did that.”
“What are you going to do if they call you?” asked Alice. She half hoped her mother would take him on. The others were right.
Someone needed to.
“This man wants to declare war on romance, then, okay. We go to the mattresses,” Bettina said in her best Godfather accent, speaking for Nola. “He has a lot to say but he’s a man. He has half the word power we do. You can win a debate with
him hands down, Nola.”
“We are not going to the mattresses,” Nola said.
“But you’re our hero,” protested Bettina. “You can’t refuse the call.”
“No one has called,” Nola reminded her.
“But if they do?” pushed Scarlet.
Bettina raised a fist. “To the mattresses!”
“But not for love,” added Lina. “If anyone can take him down, you can, Nola. And Alice, too,” she added, which made Alice
blanch.
Kara looked dubious. “Nola, you’re so sweet you might end up going to the mattress and offering him a pillow.”
Nola had to laugh at that. “I’m tougher than I look.”
People often mistook her for a pushover because of her perennial smile, but that wasn’t who she was or ever had been. She’d
been on the debate team in college and had never been afraid to disagree with a pompous professor. As a mom she’d set a certain
volleyball coach, who needed to give all the girls on the team a chance to play, straight, and as a businesswoman she’d battled
the IRS. And won. One mouthy man wasn’t going to bother her in the least.
“You don’t know my mom. She about killed me growing up,” Scarlet said, and everyone laughed.
Nola smiled at her. “And look how great you turned out.”
It was true. Neither of her girls was perfect, but they were great. Although Nola was convinced that they’d have turned out
that way no matter what she and Art had done. Her husband would have been so proud of them and all they were accomplishing.
But he’d have worried about Alice still not having found anyone to share her life with. He’d also have been upset to see how
Scarlet’s marriage was sliding south.
That relationship had started out like a Hallmark movie.
It had been a meet-cute scripted by Cupid.
They’d both attended a mutual friend’s wedding.
The bride had tossed her bouquet, and a tipsy Scarlet had dove for it and wound up falling into Mark’s lap.
She’d laughed, everyone had laughed, and Mark had grinned like he’d won the lottery.
But in the pink haze of love they’d failed to consider the fact that they had some personality traits and goals that didn’t match.
At the moment neither of them seemed to want to meld those differences into a compromise that worked. They both needed to grow up.
So, it would appear, did this Parker Black.
Scarlet raised her glass. “Here’s to Mom. Take him down,” she said, and the others chimed in with their support.
“We’ll see,” Nola said, determined not to get pressured into anything. “Meanwhile, Alice has some fun planned for us,” she
said, and turned the evening over to her daughter.
She watched proudly as Alice interacted with their customers. Here in the bookstore, she was in her element—confident and
happy. If only there was some way Nola could nudge her beyond the safety of their pink walls. Her daughter had the wings to
fly. She just needed to realize it.
Alice’s first activity involved the men, pulling them away from their clump at the refreshment table. Lina’s husband Eduardo,
along with the others, were good sports and competed for the title of Mr. Happily Ever, a competition that involved muscle
flexing and submitting the most romantic phrase. His, You are the reason my heart beats, won hands down, and Alice was sighing right along with everyone else.
“Can we clone him?” she joked to Lina.
“Afraid not, he’s one of a kind,” Lina replied. Then she put an arm around Alice’s shoulders. “Your one of a kind is out there
somewhere.” She cocked an eyebrow at Alice. “Are you wearing your red underwear like I told you?”
According to Lina, wearing red underwear on New Year’s Eve was a guarantee of good fortune when it came to love. Alice wasn’t superstitious—not at all—but she had invested in a pair of red panties. Just to be festive.
She blushed and nodded.
“Good for you,” Lina approved. “Everyone, are you all wearing red?” she asked the group, and they laughed. Most of the women
(and Eduardo) answered in the affirmative.
Except Kara. “I’m wearing yellow. I want to make more money this year,” she said.
“Money is good,” Lina said. “But not without love,” she added, smiling at her husband. “Eduardo proposed on New Year’s Eve.
Guess what color my thong was?”
“TMI,” joked Bettina and one of the husbands actually blushed.
“I bet you’re wearing red,” Lina teased.
“At my age? I’m wearing green for good health,” Bettina replied.
“That’s good, too,” said Nola, who had not divulged the color of her panties. “Okay, everyone, that’s enough. You’re making
the men blush.”
“Anyway, it’s time for Book Bingo,” said Alice. “Everyone grab a card and let’s see who wins a book to enjoy on New Year’s
Day.” There was a rush for the bingo cards.
“Oooh, I love this book,” gushed their first winner. “Now I have a copy to send my cousin in Indiana.”
It was a book Alice loved, too. She especially loved its hero, swoon-worthy Evan Hunt. He was all macho and strength when
it came to protecting the woman he loved from danger, but he was too smart to try controlling her. Instead, he treated her
with respect and devotion, drawing her to him with kindness and sweet words. He was the kind of man Alice had always dreamed
of but never met.
There had to be someone out there who, underneath his sexy, rough exterior had a tender heart. Someone who wanted a woman who was almost pretty and who made fabulous fudge. Someone who loved books as much as she did. Wherever he was, he was doing an excellent job of hiding.
The fun and games continued, ending with a toast at nine, midnight in New York.
“It’s going to be a good year,” Bettina predicted.
“It’s still early. We should do something,” Scarlet said to Alice as the partiers were saying their farewells. “Let’s go watch
the fireworks at the Space Needle.”
Alice loved hanging out with her sister—streaming movies, wandering Pike Place Market on a Sunday, enjoying lunch at The Pink
Door, or staying closer to home and going out for drinks and appetizers at Lady Jaye and downing a Wagyu chopped cheese sandwich.
But it had been a long day, and keeping the party rolling until nine had drained her. The idea of getting jostled by a crowd
of strangers didn’t come close to sounding appealing.
“I’m pooped,” she said. “How about coming over and watching that new K-drama?”
Scarlet frowned. “Not in the mood. Never mind,” she said, giving Alice a hug. “You go home and hang out with your TV show
and your book and recharge your battery. I’ll see you next year.” She gave Alice a sisterly kiss, then, after sharing one
with their mom, left.
“I should have gone with her,” Alice said as Scarlet followed the last of the partiers out the door.
“You should. You’re too young to end the night so early,” said Bettina, who was hauling plates with cookie crumbs off to the
garbage.
“No, you should go home and relax. And don’t worry about your sister. She will be fine on her own,” Nola said. “And she’ll
pull out of this,” she added, reading Alice’s worried thoughts.
“I hope so,” Alice said. “She and Mark seemed so happy at first.”
“They can be happy again. They just have to work out the kinks. Every couple does.”
“Every couple? Not you and Dad.”
“Even Dad and me. Wonderful as he was, it took us a while to learn to pull together, especially when it came to parenting.
Your father was the world’s biggest soft touch.”
“Is that why his favorite phrase was always, ‘Ask your mother’?”
“You guessed it,” Nola said with a grin. “Go on, get out of here. Bettina and I can finish up. Your book boyfriend is waiting.”
Maybe someday Alice’s real boyfriend would be waiting. Meanwhile, she’d have to settle for a perfect man someone else had
created.
Once home, she changed into her favorite flannel pajama bottoms and old T-shirt and settled in with hot chocolate and her
book. At midnight, she took out the wineglass she had sitting in the fridge with twelve grapes, a grape for each month of
the coming year. Another Mexican tradition Lina had shared with her.
The explanations on how the magic of the grapes worked were mixed. When Alice researched the tradition, she found that some
people turned eating them into a race. The first one to down all twelve would be very happy in the New Year. But Alice liked
what Lina had shared. All Alice had to do was toast family and friends with the grapes, then eat them and expect they would
bring her that many good wishes for the New Year as well.
She didn’t have twelve wishes. She really only had three. She wanted her sister to be able to work things out with Mark and live the romance dream, she wanted the bookstore to keep doing well, as much for her mother as herself. The store was everything to Mom.
Lastly, she wished for a real man to come into her life, someone more substantial than the amorphous variety formed from words
on the page. Happily-ever-after she wasn’t so sure about. That felt like asking for too much, considering her love history.
But happily for the year? That would be a good start.
Maybe she should also wish to become a little bolder. Maybe Scarlet was right, and she was hiding out in Romance Land, and
she did need to . . . do something.
“I want to be a real-life romance heroine,” she wished.
Well, that was vague. But it was the best she could do.
She lifted her glass and said, “To my family and friends, both in town and online, I wish you all a New Year filled with love.”
With that she popped a grape in her mouth. It was a very juicy grape, and she wound up choking. She hoped that wasn’t some
sort of sign.