DAY 20???!!! FIVE DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS? How can this be?!
But so it is. Day 20 and only five more days to go. I hope you're having as lovely a holiday season as I am. Frankly, I can't remember the last time I had such relaxed and happy holidays (I keep imagining something really dreadful is bound to happen--isn't that an awful way to think?)
This morning's offering is from one of ever most popular contributors, Steve Leonard--and I KNOW you're going to love it because it's got everything
I love. :-D
A Jake Riordan Christmas
Coda
“No way! Shut up!”
J.X. choked out through a fit of laughter. He was doubled over in his chair and
it was only Christopher reaching out to grab his arm that kept him from falling
on his face. He looked at Adrien in horror. “You’re Avery Oxford?!”
Adrien had an affronted
look on his face. He rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he sighed.
“Okay, let me get this
straight,” Christopher said. He finished his gin and tonic and set the glass
down. “They, the Finches, basically followed you for three years and cribbed
scenes from your life for their book?”
“Pretty much,” Adrien
said, taking a sip of his Caramel Appletini.
“That’s not creepy at
all,” Christopher said. “Hashtag, stalker.”
“Right?!”
Adrien and I were
spending Christmas at Pine Shadow Ranch this year and had invited Christopher
and J.X. to spend a couple of days with us. They were leaving in the morning -
tomorrow was Christmas Eve - because they had plans with J.X.’s family back in
San Francisco. We’d had a surprisingly pleasant visit and I found I didn’t want
it to end.
Christopher and J.X. had
taken us to dinner in Basking at La Chouette, and we were now back at the ranch
having a couple of drinks in the living room. J.X. had built a fire and the
tree Adrien and I had cut down and decorated the day we’d arrive twinkled
merrily in the corner.
“No offense to your
friends,” J.X. said, “but Murder, He
Mimed was awful.”
“Awful doesn’t even
begin to describe it,” Adrien said. “That book is a crime against literature.”
“Yes,” Christopher
agreed, and he had the same offended look on his face as Adrien. “It’s… oh,
what’s the word I’m looking for? A cry for help?”
“Dreck,” Adrien supplied
flatly, taking another drink. “That book is dreck.”
“Dreck,” I repeated,
amused. Adrien glanced at me and I smiled. “I love it when you get all riled
up, baby. You start busting out your five-dollar words.”
“Busting out my five d-
What? Are you drunk?”
“Nice try, baby.” I
winked at him over the rim of my glass. “Not even close.”
Christopher looked at me
closely, and then Adrien. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.
“There’s a story here, isn’t there?”
“Oh yeah, there’s a
story,” I acknowledged fondly, my eyes locked on Adrien’s as I remembered last
Christmas Eve with the silk scarves and that peacock feather. I wonder if he
brought them along this year...
Adrien looked away first
and cleared his throat. “But not one for public consumption.” His cheeks were
pink with heat and... something else.
“I haven’t read the book,”
I said, steering the conversation back to the original subject. Adrien shot me
a scowl and I couldn’t help but smirk.
“What?” J.X. asked. Now
both he and Christopher were looking back and forth between the two of us.
“What aren’t you telling us?”
I winked at Adrien and
he blushed. “Oh, fine. Go ahead,” he said.
I took a sip of my
Laphroaig and turned to our guests. “As a matter of fact--”
“Oh stop,” Adrien interrupted. “If you’re going to tell the story then tell it
right. Not all Joe-Friday-Just-The-Facts-Ma’am.”
“Well, excuse me, Mr. Capote,” I said with mock indignation. I stood and bowed
to him in a grand, sweeping gesture. “By all means, please continue.”
He sputtered and his Caramel Appletini sprayed across the table. “Ass!”
I coughed to cover my
chuckle and reached out to gather up the empty glasses. “Let me refill
everybody’s drinks while Scheherazade here regales you with the story.”
I was in the kitchen
mixing another Caramel Appletini for Adrien as he started in on the story. God,
what is with him and his sweet drinks? First Black Orchids and now this?
By now I knew the recipe
for Caramel Appletinis by heart:
1 ounce vanilla-flavored
vodka
1 ounce sour apple schnapps
1 ounce butterscotch schnapps
1 decorative squirt liquid caramel
(optional: 1 maraschino cherry UGH)
Christ, he’d even made me lug all the ingredients to Pine Shadow and now had
J.X. drinking them as well. But hell if I was going to measure everything out
ounce by ounce. I’d been doing a good enough job eyeballing it so far. Heck, I
hadn’t heard one complaint all week.
I smiled as I listened
to Adrien tell the story and my mind wandered back to that morning in April…
“What
is this?” Adrien
demanded as he pounded into the kitchen, his phone in his shaking, outstretched
hand.
I looked up from where I
was reading the LA Times and set down my coffee. “What’s what?”
“This,” he said frostily, waving his phone in
my face.
I glanced at it. “I
didn’t know you were on Instagram.”
“I’m not,” he said,
“although maybe I should be. Emma texted this to me.”
I took the phone from
him. “Hot Dudes Reading? Isn’t Emma a little young to be following an account
like this?”
“Not the point,” he said
crisply. “Look closer.”
“Easy now.” I looked at
the screen again. “You know, you should get a bigger phone. This screen is so
small I can ba--”
“Jake.”
“Okay, okay.” I leaned
in. “Oh hey, that’s me.” The photo was dated yesterday and showed me sitting on
a bench outside of Cloak and Dagger reading a book. When he didn’t say anything
I looked up at him. He was still glaring, his mouth agape. I held the phone out
to him. “I know this might surprise you, but I do read you know.”
He made an exasperated
noise and grabbed the phone. I stood, my hands out in a placating gesture.
“What are you so upset about? The fact that I’m reading or that somebody thinks
I’m hot?”
“Look at what you’re
reading,” he said icily, biting off each word. His nostrils were flared and he
practically thrust the phone in my face.
"Oh, that," I said
sheepishly. I looked down at the paper.
"’Oh, that’?” he mocked. “You're reading Murder, He Mimed?!"
“I wanted to know what
all the fuss was about,” I said with a shrug.
“The fuss? What fuss?”
“They’re making a movie
out of it.”
He lost all color.
“They’re what?!”
“Making a movie… It was in the paper yesterday. They’ve got David Warner
writing the screenplay."
"David Warner?" Adrien sputtered, his voice shooting up an
octave. "That hack?!"
"Yeah, and Matt Bomer’s going to play the Avery Oxford character.”
"M...M...Matt Bomer?!" He was apoplectic.
“Yes,” I said patiently.
“How do you not know this? Like I said, it was in the paper. Hell, I thought
Jean and Ted would’ve mentioned it to you by now.”
“Where’s the paper?” he ground
out. Ouch, he was going to pulverize his teeth if he wasn’t careful.
“It’s on the counter by
the door,” I said cautiously.
He stalked across the
room and snatched up the paper, tossing pages aside until he found the
entertainment section and hastily flipped through it. His brows furrowed and he
pursed his lips.
“I don’t see it,” he
said, clearly irritated.
"April Fools, baby," I said, waggling my eyebrows as I pointed to the
calendar on the wall. “Gotcha!”
He went white, then red, then white again. "You...Emma...Gah!!!"
J.X. was howling with laughter when I delivered the drinks. “Thanks,” he gasped
as he accepted his and took a big swallow. “Oh my God, Jake, that was epic.”
He was half-smashed
after all those Caramel Appletinis, and I had a feeling if he kept up his
current pace Christopher or I was going to be carrying him to bed.
“I’m glad one of us
thinks so,” Adrien sniffed, trying not to smile, but deep – deep – down I could tell he was amused.
“I need to meet this
Emma,” Christopher said, arching his brow. “You know, friends close, enemies
closer, and all that.”
“Emma’s great,” Adrien
said and I could see the affection in his eyes.
J.X. put his drink down
and slumped in his chair. He leaned his head against the back of his chair and
looked at Christopher. “I think I’m drunk, honey.”
“I’m glad I was seated
for that shocking revelation,” Christopher deadpanned.
“What? What do you
mean?”
“I mean, I’m not
surprised, what with the way you’ve been sucking down those Caramel Appletinis
tonight.” He gestured to J.X.’s nearly empty glass.
“But they’re so good,”
he protested draining his glass. “They go down like candy!”
“Been there, done that,”
I concurred, remembering last Christmas and how Adrien’s Black Orchids had
gotten the better of me.
Christopher rose and
held out his hand to J.X. He flashed him a leering look. “We should really call
it a night.”
“Oh?” J.X. said, as
Christopher helped him to his feet. His cheeks were flushed and you could hear
the smile in his voice. “I guess that means somebody’s getting lu-”
“Say good night,
Gracie,” Christopher interrupted, slapping a hand playfully over J.X.’s mouth.
He giggled and pulled
Christopher’s hand away. “Sorry, Kit,” he said sheepishly. He leaned in and
gave him a quick peck on the cheek as they left the living room.
I looked at Adrien. “You
too, Betty Ford.”
Adrien’s eyes widened.
“What?” he spluttered. “I’m fine.” He finished his drink and set his glass
down, nearly missing the coffee table. “Okay, well, maybe I’m a little tipsy.”
“Uh-huh.”
“That was so good last
night, Kit,” I overheard J.X. saying to Christopher when I walked into the
kitchen the next morning, tugging at the sleeves of my sweater to make sure the
faint red marks on my wrists weren’t showing. “You were wonderful. Why don’t we
do that more?”
“Really?” Christopher
had an exasperated but amused look on his face. “How long have I been saying
this?”
“Well, I-” J.X. stopped
when he saw me and quickly rose from where he and Christopher were sitting at
the kitchen table. He winced and massaged his right temple. “Jake, I want to
apologize for last night. I don’t normally drink so--”
“Hey, nothing to apologize for,” I said easily as I clapped my hand on his arm.
“We’re all friends here.”
“Still, though.”
I shook my head and gave
his arm another squeeze. “No need to. Truly.”
I smiled and poured
myself a cup of coffee, visions of peacock feathers and silk scarves dancing in
my head. Adrien was full of surprises lately and as I sat down at the table the
tenderness in my backside reminded me just how pleasurable some of them were.
We’d talked about making our own holiday traditions and it seems like we were well
on our way.
“Is that coffee I
smell?” Adrien moaned as he appeared in the kitchen door. Even though he’d
showered and shaved, he looked disheveled. I handed him my cup and went to pour
myself another.
“Well, don’t you look
bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning,” I said, flashing him a wink.
“Ugh.” He dropped
heavily into the chair I’d been sitting in.
~*~*~*~
“Gage would love this
place,” I heard Christopher say to J.X. as we walked them out to their car
after breakfast.
“Who’s Gage?” I asked.
“My nephew,” J.X. said.
“More like the spawn of
hell,” Christopher muttered and J.X. punched his shoulder playfully.
“Ouch! Kidding,”
Christopher said, wincing. “He’s an acquired taste.”
“If you ever want to
come visit, let me know and I’ll send you the keys,” Adrien offered.
“Really? That would be
wonderful,” J.X. enthused.
We said our goodbyes and
they were off. I looked over at Adrien as Christopher and J.X. drove out of
view. He was looking at the distant mountains, smiling. He looked so happy, so
content. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life.
I recalled the Christmases
we’d shared and the ones we’d missed. Over the last year I’d finally been able
to admit to myself that I was a big part of that smile - why he was so happy
and healthy and content. My vision blurred and I realized my eyes were wet.
He turned to me as I was
wiping at my eyes and his smile softened. “Jake,” he sighed as he stepped into
me and I wrapped my arms around him. “Let’s go home.”
“I thought you wanted to
get away from everything this year.”
“And we did. But this
was enough. Besides, I miss having everybody around for Christmas.”
“What? You?”
“Hey, I like your
family,” he said, tilting his head up for a kiss. “Heck, I even like mine a
little.”
