Chapter 20
Friday, December 14
As soon as I woke up Friday morning, I checked in with Hazel to ensure she didn’t prefer me being in the office with her today and sent a note to Grant stating I was working from home. Predictably, his answer was a curt Remember, as of January you’ll be in the office DAILY .
I decided not to reply and headed to the living room with Dazey. The Advent calendar’s fourteenth surprise was long and rectangular in shape. Whatever the task inside this parcel turned out to be, it would provide the backdrop for Marco’s and my first date. The anticipation made my fingers shake until I discovered an empty box underneath the wrapping paper with a note from Anita stuck to the outside.
Today’s mission: Make new friends.
Take Jon Snow to an Ugly Christmas Sweater board game night.
Oak Park Community Center at 6:30 p.m.
This didn’t seem too bad, but to be certain, I brought up the location’s website on my phone. After a bit of scrolling, I read that on the second Friday of each month, the community center invited seniors, younger adults, and kids to drop in and play board games.
My sister and I had often played cards, Monopoly, and Scrabble with my parents, and I had fond memories of us sitting around the kitchen table, trying to outsmart each other while the ding of the microwave announced another bowl of popcorn was ready.
Anita must’ve wanted me to reminisce about our family game nights in Pineville and lure me back there for the holidays. While some of my Christmas spark had returned, it definitely wasn’t enough to face everyone back home, or spend a week with Oliver and Sarah next door. I wanted to stay in Fallbrook. Perhaps spend some time with Marco if tonight went well. I took a breath and tapped on his number.
“Callie,” he said, his voice low.
“How are you?” I asked. “Still busy baking?”
“Very,” he replied. “I’m working double time to be sure I finish early. Did you open your Advent calendar yet? What task has your sister set up for our date tonight?”
“It sounds really weird when you put it like that,” I said with a laugh. “An ugly Christmas sweater board game night at a community center. Not exactly the most romantic of places.”
“Not so fast,” Marco said. “I bet you rock an ugly sweater, and I can’t wait to figure out if it was Colonel Mustard in the library with the candlestick again. What time can I pick you up?”
I’m not sure how I managed to focus on work for the rest of the day, but I forced myself to go through accounts receivable and contact clients with overdue invoices. At five-thirty I stood in front of my closet, freshly showered and dressed in black jeans and my Jon Snow sweater. It wasn’t the most flattering piece of clothing I owned, but Anita had been specific in her instructions.
By the time I’d applied my makeup, I still had half an hour to go before Marco would arrive. I tried reading, gave up after going over the same paragraph three times, but managed to focus on the Titanic puzzle, finally connecting the last piece right before the doorbell rang.
It was only a few steps to the front door, but during that time, my hands suddenly felt clammy so I brushed them on my sweater before nervously fluffing my hair. Taking a deep breath, I pulled on the handle, and Marco stood in front of me.
He wore a pair of brown leather winter boots, jeans, and a long black overcoat. His Donut Panic hat was clasped between his gloved fingers, and as a smile danced on his lips, making his green eyes twinkle, I thought I might melt like a snowflake on a hot griddle.
“I’m a few minutes early,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. This evening couldn’t come fast enough.” A blush shot across my face, and I bit my lip. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest.”
“So am I. Isn’t that strange? It’s not like we haven’t known each other for nearly two weeks, but I almost ruined a batch of choux pastry today. I can usually make that stuff in my sleep.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s jumpy,” I said, putting a hand to my chest.
“That’s a fun nail color. Very festive,” Marco said as he unbuttoned his coat. “Let’s see if you approve of this.”
I burst out laughing. His ugly Christmas sweater featured a knitted dinosaur with a yellow star on its head, ribboned gift boxes for shoes—all of it wrapped in real fairy lights—and topped off with the caption Tree Rex .
“Wait for it.” Marco reached under his sweater, and seconds later, the lights across his chest began to flash.
“That’s awesome! When did you get this?”
“Last year,” he replied. “Ruby told me if I ever wore it in public, she’d pretend not to know me, so this is Tree Rex’s first outing. He’s delighted.”
“As am I. Jon Snow approves, too.”
He smiled softly and took my hand in his. “You look amazing, Callie. I can already tell this will be the best first date ever. Now, what do you say we go play some games?”
—
Despite how Marco had tried to put me at ease, my nerves still galloped around my belly as we walked through town. When I snuck a glance at how our fingers interlinked perfectly, he caught my eye and winked at me, setting my pulse racing.
A short walk later, and we arrived at the community center, a one-story building clad in white vinyl. A tall woman with long dark hair and a diamond stud in her nose approached us as we walked through the front door.
“Are you Callie?” she said. “I’m Bethany. Gosh, you look so much like your sister. I gather Anita can’t make it, but I see you’ve brought company. Excellent.”
After introductions were made, Bethany led us to a large rectangular room. The soft dove gray walls beautifully contrasted the crisp white wainscoting, and the vaulted ceiling held two dozen recessed lights and modern black steel chandeliers. A seven-foot Christmas tree, decorated with lights, silver and gold ornaments, and a gigantic, illuminated star, had been set on the stage at the back.
Bookshelves lined the far wall, and round tables with up to eight chairs stood dotted around the room, some of them occupied by people playing cards, checkers, and chess. A gentleman at a piano performed “Let It Snow,” and a small group of individuals clustered around him, singing.
“This is lovely,” I said. “A lot bigger than the tiny community center where I grew up.”
“We raised money to renovate last year,” Bethany replied. “It’s made such a difference, and our game nights are super popular. The idea is for everyone to mingle.” She smiled at us again. “Go and enjoy yourselves. Love the sweaters, by the way.”
After Bethany walked back to the entrance, I looked around the room again, spotting an older couple alone in the far corner. The woman’s silver hair was cut in an elegant, sleek, shiny bob, and her ugly sweater included a one-legged gingerbread man and a speech bubble with the caption Oh snap! The gentleman opposite her wore a blue shirt with a black, red, and white cardigan covered in gift wrap bows, which was beautifully hideous.
“Let’s join them,” I said to Marco, gesturing toward the couple, and a moment later we were introducing ourselves.
“I’m Dorothy.” The woman reached over, shaking our hands, her skin as warm as her broad smile. “This is my husband, Glen.”
“My wife takes great delight in annihilating me at Battleship whenever we come here.” He pointed the game in front of him as he looked at me with a helpless expression. “Are you any good at this?”
I shrugged. “I’m a bit hit or miss.”
Glen grinned, patted the seat next to him, and turned to his wife. “She’s with me.”
“Impressive pun, Callie,” Marco said as he took the chair opposite mine. “But you know, schooner or later we’ll get you.”
“Ooh, these two are fun.” Dorothy followed her devious cackle by immediately torpedoing another of Glen’s ships. A few moves later, with a bit of luck and whispered strategy, he and I had caught up. Another ten minutes, and Glen had a proud smirk on his face.
“We didn’t rock the boats,” he said gleefully. “We sank ’em.”
“Don’t get used to it.” Dorothy shook a finger at him. “You won because of Callie. And you”—she turned to Marco—“I’m afraid you’ve done nothing but put me off my game. You’re far too handsome for my own good.”
Marco put his hands over his eyes. “I’m not sure if I should apologize or be flattered.”
“Both, of course,” Dorothy replied. “Aside from Glen and me, you’re the cutest couple in the room. How long have you been together?”
I glanced at Marco, wondered if he felt equally self-aware by being put on the spot like this. “Uh, well, we…”
“This is our first official date,” Marco said as he gave me a shy smile. “We’ve known each other two weeks.”
“Friends for a little while first, eh?” Glen reached for his wife’s hand. “Sounds like us, except I waited a month before I could work up the guts to make my move.”
“I kept wondering what was taking him so long,” Dorothy added. “Back in those days, it wasn’t considered appropriate for me to ask him out first, but I thought about it daily.”
“How long have you been together?” I said.
“Sixty-four years next March,” Glen announced proudly. “Married for sixty-three.”
“Time has flown,” Dorothy said as she gazed at him. “This man’s the love of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve thought about murdering him on occasion, but divorce has never crossed my mind.”
“I’m lucky in so many ways,” Glen said wryly, patting his wife’s hand.
“What’s your secret?” I asked.
“We live by three simple rules.” Dorothy held up her index finger. “Number one is open communication. Absolutely vital if you want to go the distance.”
“Allow me to me illustrate,” Glen said. “A week after we got married, I made chicken puttanesca.”
“It’s with anchovies,” Dorothy added, pulling a face. “I hate those things, but when he asked what I thought, I raved about it being the best dish I’d ever tasted.”
“I could tell it was a complete lie.” Glen chuckled. “It was written all over her face, so I called her bluff and promised I’d make it every week until the day I died.”
“I surrendered,” Dorothy admitted. “It was either that or kill him, and that would’ve been a shame. So, we made a pact. If we don’t like something, no matter what it is, we must tell each other openly and gently. Kindness is key to rule number one.”
“Smart,” Marco said. “People get hurt when they’re lied to.”
“Exactly,” Glen agreed. “Our second rule is that whenever we disagree, we always try to find a compromise that works for us both. You can’t have one person winning all the arguments.”
“Except when your wife’s never wrong,” Dorothy said.
Glen gave her a good-natured eye roll. “Yes, dear.”
Watching them interact reminded me of my parents—together forever and still bouncing off each other. These two had surely also had their ups and downs, like Mom and Dad, but they’d grown together and come through them, which I admired and respected.
“What’s your third rule?” Marco asked, and I leaned forward, eager to know more.
Dorothy beamed. “Regular and spectacular sex. That’s the best part, don’t you think?”
Marco let out a strangled cough, and I felt the color rushing to my cheeks as I scrambled for something to say.
As Dorothy put her head back and laughed, she stroked her husband’s arm. “Whoops, we’ve embarrassed the young folk. Why don’t we give them a moment to recover and get ourselves a nice little drink. We’ll see you two later.”
“I want to be her when I grow up,” I said as they walked away, arm-in-arm.
Marco shook his head and chuckled. “You and me both.”
We mingled some more, playing rounds of Uno at another table and watching two seriously talented kids face off over an intense game of chess. When things started to wind down, Bethany came over to us.
“Having fun?” she asked.
Marco gave me a mischievous smile. “It’s been…enlightening.”
As I stifled a laugh, Bethany said, “I always bring my old Polaroid camera to these events and make photo collages afterward.” She held out a square picture. “I took a couple of you two, and I thought you might want this one.”
After excusing herself to say goodbye to other participants, I looked at the photo, which neither Marco nor I had noticed being taken. In it we stood facing each other, our heads tilted back, both of us laughing. My hand lay on his forearm, and Marco had placed his fingers over mine.
“It’s a great picture,” Marco murmured in my ear.
“Isn’t it? We’re so…”
“Happy,” he said.
Half a turn, and I was in his arms. My heart bounded around my rib cage as my knees weakened. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. How couldn’t we be, especially now that we have Glen and Dorothy’s insider info?”
“Who are we to argue with them?” Marco added, his gaze dropping to my mouth.
“We couldn’t possibly.” My voice turned raspy as he stroked the base of my spine with his thumb, making me want to arch my back and press my upper body against his. “We’re just a couple of whippersnappers.”
Marco bent his head, and as he put his lips to my ear, whispered, “We should probably follow their guidelines with the utmost precision.”
“Agreed.” I turned my face toward his. As his mouth approached mine, and right before I closed my eyes, I added, “Except I think I’d like to start with rule number three.”
When our lips touched, an entire firework factory went off in my head, lighting up my soul. As he pulled me closer and our kiss deepened, the yearning I had for him raced to the surface, filling every square inch of me.
“Wow,” he murmured when we finally broke apart.
“Wow yourself.”
Marco grinned and took my hand in his. “What do you say we get out of here?”
“Only if you take me home with you,” I whispered.
Less than twenty minutes later, we were in Marco’s building, arms around each other as we moved up the stairs toward his apartment. The anticipation of what was about to happen had turned my desire into a raging inferno. I’d never wanted anyone or anything as badly as I wanted him.
When we got to his front door, and after slipping a key into the lock, Marco turned around. “Are you sure about this?” he asked quietly. “I can drive you to your place, if you’re not—”
Silencing his concerns with another, deeper kiss, I pressed him against the door, my fingers reaching for the zipper of his jacket. We broke apart only for a moment, allowing us to step inside. Coats, boots, and scarves were shed, and he stood in front of me, his brown eyes shining, his face flushed pink.
I closed the tiny gap between us and finally, finally slid my fingers beneath his sweater, gasping at the smoothness of his skin, the perfection of his taut muscles. It was everything I’d been imagining, and so much more.
“Callie,” he whispered, and as he moved even closer, I could already feel how much he wanted me. The touch of his hands on my hips, the way he looked at me, his expression filled with lust and passion…it all threatened to send me over the edge before we’d properly begun.
“Where’s the bedroom?” I asked, my voice raspy.
Marco tilted his head. “Over there.”
“Don’t make me wait any longer. I can’t.”
One eyebrow arched, and with a tantalizing smile dancing on his gorgeous lips, Marco picked me up and carried me into the other room. After gently lowering me onto his bed, he took a step back and slid off his shirt before undoing the button of his jeans.
“You’re such a tease,” I chastised him with a laugh as he oh-so-slowly took off his pants, never breaking eye contact with me, not once.
He soon silenced my words as he got to work on my clothes, and within an instant, we were kissing, touching, exploring. As Marco lowered himself on top of me, I gasped at the delicious weight of him and closed my eyes.
Arching my back, and before my mouth hungrily found his again, I murmured, “Best first date ever.”