33. Nova
33
NOVA
I t didn’t take terribly long for Bryan to clean the kitchen. He found the source of the smell and made sure he took it out with the garbage. It took much longer for Amelia to help me pack. She wanted to ask what everything in my room was. Why did I have face wash? Why did I have hair conditioner? Why did I have shampoo?
“Why do you have a razor in the shower? You didn’t grow a beard. You’re a lady.”
“You’re right, I don’t grow a beard,” I said with a sigh as I took the pink shaver from her before she could hurt herself. I was going to have to explain to her at some point in time about shaving her legs, but this wasn’t the time for it.
I took one last look at my little apartment and felt exuberant. I wasn’t going to have to stay here anymore. I wasn’t even sad I was leaving. It was more a case of I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
I’d come back in a few days and finish going through what I wanted to keep.
“You don’t even have to pack anything,” Bryan said. “Put labels on what you want to keep and what you want to dispose of or donate.”
“You make moving sound so easy.” Moving up here had been relatively easy. I had fit everything I thought I would need into two large suitcases. No furniture, no kitchenware, just personal effects because I was supposed to have gotten a furnished room. Everything that was in this apartment, I had scrambled to find once I got here.
It was such a contrast to leave the small apartment and the overcrowded apartment complex and arrive at their house. It was a mansion, and I still hadn’t had time to explore every nook and cranny as much as I had wanted. I had resigned myself to never knowing the full extent of what this place held.
Now I had all the time in the world. I wasn’t limited to spending time in the kitchen or entertaining Amelia. I was still doing that. I was still going to do that for the next week and a half, but I lived here now. I could wander around whenever I wanted.
The walls of the side entry where we came in looked different to me, somehow.
Even the den seemed different.
“Oh, wow, Santa Claus really did deliver,” I said as Amelia dragged me into the den to show off the Christmas tree and the pile of presents surrounding it.
We had camped out with its fireplace and haphazardly decorated Christmas tree. This room should have been familiar, yet it seemed different. It was as if I could see the walls painted with love and comfort and belonging.
“How about I make some hot chocolate and then we can start opening presents?” I suggested.
“That sounds like a very good idea,” Bryan said. “Amelia, why don’t you help me take Nova’s things upstairs, and we’ll all meet together in the den? We can start Christmas morning the proper way.” He grinned at me, and I felt butterflies in my heart and fluttering in my stomach. Tears filled my eyes again. I stared up at the ceiling and blinked hard, trying to will them away. I was not going to cry anymore. I had cried more than enough this morning.
I peeled my coat and scarf off as I walked to the kitchen and hung and put my things up in the back coat closet, where I was used to putting them. I paused with the hanger in my hand. This was where the employees kept their things. I didn’t actually know where the real coat closet was. There had to be one in a place this size. It was probably an entire room. I should ask for an official tour later. That would be something good to do after dinner.
I put my coat away and wrapped an apron around my waist. I removed the sausage balls and cinnamon rolls I had prepared the day before. They were covered in copious notes of instruction for cooking.
I set the oven to preheat and started making the hot chocolate. The cinnamon rolls were going to take more than a few minutes. I popped the prepared sausage balls into the air fryer. They would cook faster that way, and I didn’t have to fuss with the deep fryer.
This kitchen had every gadget conceivable—deep fryers, air fryers, more Crock Pots than I had ever seen, even in one of my mom’s church potlucks. I was going to have a great time playing with all of them. I giggled. This was my kitchen. We had a full-time, professional cook, and I was going to love that.
I hoped she liked me. I hoped she’d let me cook sometime, or let me help her, because I did enjoy cooking. It was tranquil, almost soothing.
“Hey, Nova, aren’t you going to come in and open presents with us?” Amelia practically yelled at me as she came into the kitchen. “Daddy thinks you must have gotten lost or something.”
I laughed. I had gotten lost in my thoughts “Not lost. I’m making breakfast real quick.” I glanced at the timer on both the oven and the air fryer. I had a couple of minutes before anything would be ready. “Why don’t I come into the den and you can open one or two presents, then I think breakfast will be done?”
I followed her into the den and was amazed again at how many presents there were. And to think I had been afraid that Bryan would forget and not get his daughter anything under the tree for Christmas morning.
He sat in one of the side chairs and patted his knee. “Come.”
“You want me to sit on your lap? Who do you think you are, Santa Claus?”
He laughed as I parked myself on his knee.
“I can watch you open one or two presents, but then I have to get back,” I reminded Amelia and let Bryan know what I was thinking.
“Amelia, sweetheart, bring that box over to Nova.” He extended his arm and pointed at a long, thin box.
“You got me a present? I asked.
“I did get you a present, but I think this one is from Santa Claus.”
“Open it. Open it,” Amelia said as she danced in front of me.
I didn’t understand this child’s level of self-control. At her age, I would have plunged into the pile of presents and begun shredding wrapping paper like some kind of piranha.
“Oh, these are beautiful,” I said, opening the box to reveal ruby red, leather gloves lined in fleece. I slipped my fingers into their comforting warmth. “These are perfect. So perfect. Too bad Santa didn’t show up a couple of days earlier. I really could have used these the other day.”
“Well, now you can use them the next time we have snow.”
“I’m going to have to remember to thank Santa Claus for these. They’re fabulous. Okay, Amelia, your turn.”
She turned and stared wide-eyed at the plentitude of gifts in front of her.
I wondered if the sheer number of gifts was overwhelming her to the point she couldn’t make a decision. Suddenly, with an almost feral growl, she crawled halfway under the tree and began tugging out a large box.
“Is that one from Santa?” I asked.
“They’re all from Santa,” Bryan told me. “Well, not all. There’s a couple in there from me.”
“And what about her grandmother?” We spoke in low tones as Amelia tore into the package.
She didn’t rend the box into mulch, as I would have expected. But each long tear of paper was loud and covered our conversation.
“I have to call Mother later. She’s either going to come over here later, or we’ll go to her house, and Amelia will get her presents then.”
I really wasn’t looking forward to meeting his mother again, but maybe being Bryan’s fiancée would make a difference.
“She’s perfect!” Amelia wailed as she exposed the contents of the box. It was one of those Country Girl dolls.
“Oh, she’s so pretty,” I said.
Amelia pulled the doll from the box and cradled her. “She’s exactly what I wanted.”
I felt more than heard Bryan relax with a heavy sigh. I guess he hadn’t been completely certain about that doll.
After we ate breakfast in front of the tree and Amelia continued to open present after present, I was happy to sit curled up on the couch, tucked up under Bryan’s arm, watching Amelia as she played with her new toys. And she had so many new toys. Her Country Girl doll came with all of the accessories, and then there were clothes for Amelia and building block collections. It was an impressive haul. I was content and could have sat and stayed there for a very long time.
“Why haven’t you been returning my calls?” The sharp voice of Bryan’s mother cut through my bliss. “What is she doing here? Bryan, what have I told you about the?—”
“Mother, before you say another word,” Bryan started, “what have I said about letting yourself in unannounced?”
“If you had answered your phone, I’d have been announced.”
“It’s not even lunchtime. I didn’t think we were doing anything until later,” he said.
I started to shift away, but he stopped me with his hand on my arm.
“I wanted to see how Santa Claus treated my granddaughter, and I walk in to see you curled up with the cook. I thought I raised you better than that.”
“I’m a grown man, and I can cuddle up with whoever I want.”
“But the help?” his mother wailed. “This is why I never hired pretty maids. Didn’t want to tempt you or your father.”
“Mother, stop being such a snob or I will not share my good news with you.”
“I’m not being a snob. It’s the truth and you’re being rude.”
Amelia sat frozen on the floor, looking up at her grandmother.
She snapped her head around and looked down her nose at Amelia. “Aren’t you going to greet me, child?”
“Merry Christmas, Grandmother,” Amelia said, but she didn’t move. She was half buried under a pile of toys. “You shouldn’t be mean to Nova.”
That kid was my favorite six-year-old.
“Why does she know the name of the cook? Bryan, why are you letting your daughter speak to me that way?”
He still hadn’t moved, but his arm tightened around me. I didn’t know if he was holding on to me to keep his temper in check or holding on to me to keep me in place.
“Because she is doing a better job at defending Nova than I’ve done previously. Mother, you need to be nice to Nova or you will no longer be welcome in this house.”
“What a fine Christmas present. You’re choosing this little tart over me?”
“No, Mother, I’m choosing my fiancée.”