Fatty Patty (A James Bay Novel) (25 page)

And what exactly did he mean by that kiss?

# # #

Candy canes, games and gifts, a holiday extravaganza. The kids were excited about the start of Christmas vacation and the voices buzzed higher as the cookies and punch disappeared. Even Joseph and Billy behaved themselves. It was quite the party, but it’s finally over and I’m looking forward to fourteen straight days of blissful quiet, being lazy, and sleeping in late. I give my classroom one last look before I head out the door for home.

But my small canvas tote will never hold all the gifts I received, stacked high on my desk. Tins of homemade cookies, bottles of perfume, the customary stationery—four boxes this year—and a paperback joke book from Tyler, my resident clown. A beautiful silk scarf from Lauren in a delicate Japanese print. A glitzy purple ruler and matching tape dispenser from Matt and his twin Mike. My eyes fall on my favorite gift of all: a small ceramic angel in gaudy hues of yellow, pink, and blue. It’s dusty and a little dirty, but it’s precious to me. There’s not much money or parental involvement at Tiffany’s house and I’ll lay money this little angel came right off her bedroom shelf, straight from the little girl’s heart.

I pick it up, polish it with a Kleenex and place it on the highest shelf in the bookcase behind my desk. Tiffany’s angel will stand guard over our classroom for the rest of the school year. Maybe seeing it will remind some of the girls to be more kind, to treat others the way you’d like to be treated. There’s enough bullying in the world. I don’t need it happening in my class.

My cell phone buzzes. It’s buried somewhere underneath the gifts. No doubt it’s Priscilla. I’m already late, and with Sam and Dr. Brown expected for dinner, she’s probably frantic.

“Patty?”

Sam’s voice surprises me. He sounds tinny and far away.

“Sam? Is that you?” It’s hard to tell. It sounds like he’s in a tunnel.

“Sorry about the… I’m on my cell… got to the airport.”

“You’re at the airport?” My stomach drops. It’s a scratchy connection. Maybe I misunderstood. But I already don’t like what I’m hearing.

“I managed… Phoenix. My plane… an hour.”

“But you’re supposed to come for dinner tonight. We’re celebrating Christmas.”

“I’m sorry about this, Patty. The snowstorm’s moving in fast.”

“We’re having prime rib.” I swallow over the lump in my throat. “Priscilla has the house all decorated. She invited Dr. Brown.”

“Tell her… sorry.”

There’s an empty buzz and I think I’ve lost him.

“Sam? Are you there?”

The phone crackles. “I’ll be back on the thirtieth.”

Ten whole days without him. “Sam, I wish you weren’t…”

“Tell Priscilla I’m sorry about tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I mumble. “She’ll understand.”

But what I don’t understand is why I suddenly feel so disappointed.

“I’ll miss you, Patty.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Even as I speak, I realize I’m admitting the truth. I’ll miss his company at dinner. Miss seeing how his face lights up when he opens his gift. I’ll miss his laughter, stories, jokes.

I’ll miss the man.

“Merry—”

The connection breaks and this time I know I’ve lost him for good. No chance to even say good-bye.

“Merry Christmas, Sam,” I whisper, though I know he can’t hear me.

Everyone is heading out before the storm hits and the only place I’ve got to go is home. Priscilla’s baked up a store. Homemade goodies are stashed all over the house. Gifts for the clinic, for friends we know. I think of the rich, buttery toffee candy she planned on making today. My favorite treat, made only at Christmas. How can I say no?

But how can I say yes? My eating’s been out of control since Amy’s cocktail party. I wouldn’t be surprised if I gain another two or three pounds before New Year’s.

Count your blessings
, Mama always said. Things could be worse.

Blessings? What blessings?

Then I spy one, smack in the center of my desk. I pluck Nick’s gift out of the velvet bag, snap the lid open and eye the apple brooch. I tilt the box in the fading afternoon sun. Garnets flash, diamonds shimmer.
An apple for my favorite teacher
. An apple, the forbidden fruit.

Forbidden food.

Who needs food? I don’t need cookies or Priscilla’s butter crunch toffee. I can make it through the holidays without eggnog, rum balls, or mincemeat pie. I can do it without gaining a single pound.

Count your blessings? More like count your calories… and from now on, I’m going to count every single calorie I pop in my mouth.

God bless that snowstorm moving into town. Shoveling snow burns calories and I’ll shovel every hour on the hour if that’s what it takes. I won’t touch cookies. I don’t need sugar. I’ve found something better. I can make it through Christmas. I know I can do it, especially with a little help from Sam’s method of swimming one lap at a time. I’ll take the food one day at a time. Christmas is only one day out of the year. And after Christmas comes and goes, Sam will be back.

And so will Nick.

I snap the lid shut on the twinkling brooch, grab my bag, and head for the door. I’m already late and Priscilla is probably anxious—but that’s nothing compared to how frantic she’ll be when she finds out Dr. Brown will be our only guest tonight. Hopefully he shows up with a big appetite. That dapper little doctor with the polite smile is going to find himself surrounded by plenty of delicious food and a heaping candy dish that he’ll have to polish off without any help from me.

Who needs sugar when you’ve got Nick Lamont?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The telephone’s shrill ring comes in the middle of Priscilla’s tears and just before the hero’s kiss.

“I’ll get it.” I jump up from the couch and scoot for the hallway, grateful to make an escape. We survived Christmas but I’m not sure I’ll survive the aftermath, especially since Priscilla seems hell-bent on watching every single holiday film ever made. I grab the phone. “Hello?”

“Happy New Year.”

“Well, thank you very much, Mr. Curtis… except you’re one day early.” I sink down on the upholstered bench, glad to hear his voice. We’ve talked every day since he’s been gone, more than we ever do when he’s home. I didn’t count on missing him so much. “Where are you? Did your plane leave yet? Are you still in Arizona?”

“Would that make any difference?”

“Of course it does.” Is he kidding? Two miles or two thousand miles could separate us.

An easy laugh rolls across the line. “We landed around dinnertime. I just walked in the door.”

Sam’s home
. Delicious news. I curl up on the bench and tuck the phone under my chin with a smile. I won’t have to waste my time watching any more cheesy holiday movies.

“Got any plans for tomorrow night? It’s New Year’s Eve, remember?”

I draw in a small breath, finger the apple brooch pinned on my sweater. All quiet on the California front. No word from Nick, not even a phone call. Not even on Christmas. I assume he’s been busy with his sisters. Maybe his older brothers showed up. That would be hard on him. Nick said they don’t get along.

And I know exactly how he feels. Holidays are tough, especially when one of you is mad at the other. It’s been over a month since the Thanksgiving fiasco, and Priscilla’s finally talking to me again, but it’s not the same. There’s an edginess between us that I’d give anything to fix.

“No plans,” I say, ignoring the small tug in my heart. “I’m all yours.”

“I like the sound of that,” Sam says, chuckling. “But what about Priscilla? I don’t want her feeling left out. I was thinking the three of us could have dinner together. A beautiful woman on each arm? I’ll be the envy of every guy in town.”

“Sorry, you missed your chance. She already has a date.”

“Our Priscilla? You’re kidding. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Dr. Brown, of course.” Who would have guessed? Those two make quite the pair. Priscilla is smitten and it’s obvious the feeling is mutual. If he wasn’t busy at the hospital tonight, no doubt he’d be in our living room watching holiday movies without a single complaint.

“I guess I never linked the two of them together. He’s such a plain-looking guy and Priscilla… well, she’s—”

“Gorgeous,” I supply. “Go ahead, you might as well say it. Priscilla’s beautiful.”
And I’m not
. But the fact doesn’t bother me. I’ve lived with it for years.

“What I meant to say was, Priscilla could have her pick of any guy in town and yet she goes for him. Go figure.”

I nod into the phone. Funny, to think that I once questioned Dr. Brown’s motives and now I can’t think of anyone more perfect for Priscilla. The two of them seem made for each other. Both of them are homebodies, gentle souls wandering through life trying to make others happy.

Except she’s not happy with me. I’m sure no one else has noticed the rift, but I have and it hurts my heart. It’s like living with a stranger instead of my twin. The easiness between us is gone and I’m at a loss how to get it back. Why is it you never appreciate the things that matter most until they’re suddenly gone? Priscilla can be stubborn, but she’s never been like this. And all over a stupid piece of china. I’ve tried apologizing over and over, but whenever I start, she cuts me off, says it doesn’t matter, that she doesn’t want to talk about it.

But it does matter. And we do need to talk about it. I know how much it’s hurting me. And I know Priscilla. She’s keeping it all bottled up inside. It’s got to be hurting her. It’s hurting us.

What if we never talk about it? Someday there might be no more
us
.

Maybe I should say something to Dr. Brown. She won’t listen to me. Maybe she’ll listen to him.

“Isn’t it funny, how people get together?” I muse. “I wonder what it is that attracts one person to another? One of life’s great mysteries, I suppose.”

“No mystery,” he answers in a low voice. “It’s those beautiful red curls… and your freckles.”

“Ugh, don’t mention those freckles.” He’s flirting with me and I shouldn’t encourage him. But everyone’s entitled to a little fun now and then, and chatting with Sam is so much better than being trapped in the living room with Priscilla. “And as for my hair?” I twist some curls around a finger, give up as they bounce in my face. “Maybe I should shave my head and go bald, like Dr. Brown. What do you think?”

“Don’t you dare,” he warns. “You’re a gorgeous redhead. Make sure you stay that way.”

A quick rush of pleasure shoots up my cheeks. “Enough with the teasing.”

“What makes you think I’m teasing? You’re every bit as gorgeous as your sister.”

“And you’re a liar, Sam Curtis.”

“I’d never tell you something that wasn’t true. I’m a man of my word.” His voice catches. “You’re beautiful to me.”

Priscilla wanders through the doorway. “Who’s on the phone?”

I cover it with one hand. “It’s Sam. He just got back into town.”

She yawns, heads for the stairs. “Tell him I said hello. I’m going to bed.”

“Priscilla says hi.” I watch her disappear up the stairs. “What were we talking about?”

“An adorable redhead with lots of freckles.”

“Her again?” I laugh. “I can think of better things to talk about.”

“That redhead happens to be my favorite subject. I missed you, Patty.”

“Arizona wasn’t fun?” I try to ignore the hint of longing I hear in his voice.

“It would have been more fun if you’d been there.”

“Excuse me but I don’t remember being invited. And some of that Arizona sunshine sounds pretty nice right now. I’ve been shoveling snow for six days straight.”

“Next year I’ll make sure you’re invited.”

“You do that, Mr. Curtis,” I say lightly. Our conversation is taking a serious turn, and we don’t need to go there. “Meanwhile, what about tomorrow night?”

“Name the place and I’ll make reservations. Dinner?”

“I’m on a diet.” I lost another three pounds over the holidays and the last thing I want to do is end the old year focusing on food.

“Okay, forget dinner. What about dancing?”

“Too fancy.” Memories of that little black dress are fresh in my mind. Besides, Dr. Brown and Priscilla have plans for dinner and dancing tomorrow. She’s been obsessed for days, wandering around the house muttering to herself about how to do her hair and what she should wear.
Ghosts of cocktail parties past.

“It’s New Year’s Eve, Patty. Don’t you want to go somewhere special and celebrate?”

Not if I can’t have what I want. And what I want is still in California... I think.

“Why do we have to get all dressed up? Can’t we go somewhere and have some fun?”

“Anything to keep you happy. How about a movie?”

Suddenly this is starting to sound like a real date. So far I’ve been successful in evading a romantic dinner or being in Sam’s arms on a crowded dance floor. But sitting in a darkened movie theater would give him plenty of opportunity to slip his arm around my shoulder and pull me close. Do I really want to put myself through two hours fighting him off?

“Like you said, it’s New Year’s Eve. We could do a movie anytime. Let’s do something special and fun… but can we make it someplace where we can wear jeans?”

“That’s not very festive.” Sam sounds doubtful.

“Festive or not, at least we’ll be comfortable.” Ringing in the New Year in my favorite pair of jeans sounds like the perfect ending to the not-so-perfect year.

“I guess I can figure something out.”

“I trust you, Sam. I’m sure whatever you come up with will be lots of fun.”

# # #

“We’re going bowling?” I shut the front door behind him and stare at the puddles of wet snow as Sam stomps his shoes on the mat. “But I don’t know how to bowl.”

“Then tonight’s the night you learn.” He hands me his jacket with an easy grin.

Maybe I should have planned the evening after all. The thought of spending New Year’s Eve at a bowling alley conjures up images of loud laughter, ugly shoes, and men swigging beer. I peer at him. “Are you on a team?”