Hating Christmas (Holiday Series) (11 page)

Holly drew in a long breath, ignoring his last
comment. “Unfortunately, sex seemed like a great option to me, too,
until I remembered that we’re trying to get our parents to
recognize they need to get a divorce and, oh, you happen to resent
my having talked to one of your actors.”

Leaning back against a nearby tree truck, Levi said,
“Oh, yeah. That.”

He slanted her a grin. “I don’t suppose you’d want to
try hooking up and see if our parents get all mad, choose sides and
divorce over that?”

Holly had to hide a smile. “No, I don’t suppose that
we need to go that far to break them up—

“I wouldn’t mind. Anything for my dad.”

“—and that wouldn’t help us resolve our other
problem.”

He cocked a questioning eyebrow and she went on. “You
know, the issue of Mac doing my project or the bigger money
one?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” His gaze brooded on her a moment.
“Might have been worth it.”

“We’ll never know.” She got to her feet, trying to
sound as firm as a school teacher, but she sure as hell couldn’t
help wondering.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to help us with the
Christmas cookies for the party tomorrow?” Michael stuck his head
through the door to the kitchen.

“No, Dad. I certainly wouldn’t want to wear an apron
like that.” Levi used the fireplace poker to rearrange the logs
that were burning in the brick enclosure, careful not to send
embers onto the rug or over to where Holly sat in a nearby
chair.

His dad looked down at the frilly white “maids day
off” apron. “I’ll bet we could find you a more manly one. I’ll ask
Audrey.”

“Don’t bother,” he called out. “Christmas cookies
aren’t really my thing.”

Michael poked his head around the corner again. “If
you’re sure. What about you, Holly? We’ll let you decorate
them?”

Her mother’s voice could be heard from the kitchen.
“No, we won’t, Michael. These are for the Christmas party and Holly
somehow missed the decorating gene.”

Holly face look solemn as she said. “She’s right,
Michael. I’m dangerous with frosting and a spatula.”

Levi couldn’t help but grin at the image. Sadly, he’d
like to see Holly with some frosting and a spatula, but cookies had
nothing to do with his picture. He gave the fire a final poke,
assuring his father.
“You guys go ahead and bake away. We’ll just sit here and enjoy the
fire.”

“That’ll be nice. A fire and a Christmas tree. We
might have carolers stop by, too,” his dad enthused before
disappearing into the kitchen again.

“I certainly hope not.” Holly’s prayer was
fervent.

“What? You don’t like being sung to?” He sank into
the chair on the other size of the fireplace.

“What the hell are you supposed to do when they’re
singing?” she demanded. “What do you look at and do you offer to
make them coca or give them a brandy? Is it appropriate to offer
them a tip? I just never know.”

Laughing, he said, “Well, it’s good there aren’t many
carolers in L.A. or wherever your filming takes you. Kind of a
local, Midwest thing.”

“True. You have no idea how welcome that is. It’s one
of the reasons I live in Southern Cal.”

“Where do you usually film? Do you try to stay around
L.A.?” He knew documentarians worked all over, but some specialized
in certain areas.

She looked at him for a long moment, as if trying to
ascertain whether his interest were genuine. “Are you just trying
to find out if Mac will be in this area, should he get the nod on
the bigger movie project?”

Levi laughed. Her suspicion was understandable. “No.
There are airplanes that can get him quickly from one place to the
other—should that scenario develop. I asked about your work because
I’m interested.”

He wouldn’t have admitted it, but Holly and her red
hair were occupying more and more of his thoughts.

“I work all over.” She tucked her legs under her.

“I think I might have seen your last documentary,” he
said. “It was about the foster care system in the states,
right?”

Looking surprised, she nodded. “Yes, I’m shocked you
even saw it. Now that project took me all over. Different states
handle the foster care system differently, so we filmed in
different locations.”

“I learned a lot. Until I mentioned to one of my
friends that I’d seen it, I had no idea he grew up in the foster
system. I think he said he ‘aged out’ at eighteen.”

She frowned at the mug in her hands. “It’s really
sad. These kids are raised by foster families—the ones who don’t
return to their parents because of drugs or neglect—and when they
turn eighteen, they’re on their own. Some foster families are great
and they maintain their relationship, supporting the child
financially and emotionally, but not all of them do that.”

“Didn’t your film say some states give them free
college tuition?”

From the kitchen, his father could be heard laughing
and talking with Audrey, the scent of freshly-baked cookies
sneaking in to mingle with the wood smoke from the fire.

Sitting across from him with her auburn curls
reflecting the fire light, Holly looked both serious and sweet as
she shook her head in response to his question. “Free college
tuition doesn’t make up for not having family support. I mean, it’s
great and a lot of people wish they were so lucky, but eighteen
year-old kids need some loving adult in their lives.”

Levi couldn’t help the warm feeling that stole into
his chest as he sat there with Holly. “You care a lot about them,
these—what did you call them in the film—‘lost kids’?”

Her laugh was rueful. “I think it’s part of making
documentaries. The medium is slanted toward getting emotionally
invested. After all, we’re telling small, intimate stories.”

“This is true.” He sat back in his chair, watching
her.

She sat there speaking with passion about her work,
the light from the fire gilding her fiery hair and casting warm
shadows on her beautiful skin…and something unacceptable stirred in
him. More than his sexual interest in her, he had to admit that
Holly was both smart and engaging...and wrong for him in every
way.

They had different lives and different agendas. Hell,
they couldn’t even agree on the Mac Toledo situation.

“Documentaries are about telling factual truths,” she
was saying. “They aren’t fluffy and don’t have special effects that
blow things up—unless that’s the story’s focus. It’s real and some
folks don’t want to see films about real things. That’s why I
wanted someone with a name to do the voice-over in this one. You
know, appear in a few shots and narrate the rest—“

“I know why you want Mac,” he said abruptly. “Let’s
not argue about that. Tell me why you hate Christmas. You must have
some good memories. Kids usually love Christmas.”

Holly looked startled by his suddenly switching the
subject, but she answered his question, saying slowly. “Well, most
kids don’t have their dads die at Christmas.”

Levi threw her a startled look, his words going soft.
“Really? Your dad died during the holidays? I knew Audrey was a
widow, but that’s all I knew. He actually died at Christmas?”

She took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, he did.”

Suddenly, he understood why she didn’t enjoy the
season any more than he did.

Her smile was crooked. “Kind of puts all this
ridiculous mistletoe and excessive shopping into a different
perspective.”

“How old were you?” He didn’t know why his words were
quieter. There was certainly no need to worry about anyone
overhearing their conversation. The timing of Holly’s father’s
death certainly wouldn’t be a surprise for Audrey, even if their
parents could hear their conversation from the kitchen.

“I was nine, at the time,” Holly responded, her gaze
level.

He wasn’t a huggy, touch-y person typically, but Levi
felt an overpowering urge to reach over and draw her close.

“I’d guess that would put a damper on the holiday
silliness.” He looked toward the kitchen door. “It doesn’t seem to
have turned your mother off Christmas.”

“No, it doesn’t.” She followed his glance. “I don’t
get it, either, but my mother seems to have thrown herself even
more into the insanity surrounding these holidays.”

“Probably trying to ‘be normal’ and make it up to
you,” he guessed.

The glance she threw him was surprised.

Shrugging, he said, “That’s probably how I would have
felt---you know, make it easier for the kid even if I didn’t like
the holiday myself?”

“Maybe.” She looked down at her hands in her lap.
“Nothing could do that, though. I was a child and everyone was all
happy and partying while my dad was dying. It didn’t make any
sense. I didn’t understand that sometimes people die. I’m not sure
I still get it. I mean I know we all die, but it doesn’t really
make sense to me, if you get what I mean.”

“I know. What did your dad die of?” It was a personal
question, Levi knew, but sitting here by the fire with her seemed
intimate somehow.

“Cancer. A rare form of lung cancer. Even though he’d
never smoked in his life, he died of lung cancer.” Holly grimaced
at him. “Try explaining that to your nine year-old friends. To any
of your friends, actually, regardless of how old you are. It
doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

He shook his head. “How did you get through it?”

Releasing another big sigh, she said, “I have a
really great mom—her Christmas hysteria aside—and we just learned
to go on living…but to her sadness, I never lost my aversion to the
holidays.”

Getting up again, to poke at the logs in the
fireplace, his mind shot through a montage of all the great times
with his dad.

“Geez,” he said sitting back down in the chair across
from her, “you missed out on having a dad. That’s sad. No one to
play ball with you or give you piggy back rides.”

Holly laughed softly. “Well, I did get some of that
stuff before he got sick. Piggy back rides and a few seasons of
softball…my mother still tells of my father’s amusement and dismay
when I sat down in the outfield during a game.”

Levi gave a bark of laughter. “That must have been
funny.”

“In my defense, it was a night game and I was only
five.”

“My dad would have lost it, if I’d have done that,”
he admitted, realizing that his change of subject had only
tightened the pull between him and Holly.

He felt even more attracted to her and he couldn’t
help remembering that heated kiss in the snow. Hell, they had two
great kisses in the snow. Made him wonder what kissing her in a
warmer locale would be like.

What she was trying to do with Mac Toledo and her
African documentary was wrong, but that didn’t mean he could deny
his own attraction to her or his thoughts of sneaking into her
bedroom that night.

He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t have to imagine her
breathing as she slept just down the hall from him. Shouldn’t have
to listen to her laugh, that got him itchy, and shouldn’t have to
think of her as a sweet, grieving nine year-old.

Damn the entire Christmas season.

* * * * * * * * *

Audrey bustled into the kitchen and Levi straightened
from where he’d been looking out the window, waiting for the others
to get ready for the Christmas party his father insisted would be
fun.

Wearing a red party dress, she carried a down coat
over her arm.

“Oh! Levi! You startled me.” She smiled, going to the
refrigerator to remove a platter of decorated cookies.

“You have a warm coat.” He nodded toward the one she
carried.

“Yes. As you can see, it’s blowing up cold out
there.” Audrey put the platter on the table. “Your dad keeps saying
I need a better coat for our evenings out.”

Her laugh was indulgent. “Like we go to a lot of
parties. This is fine for going to a restaurant for supper
occasionally and our friends certainly don’t care what I wear when
we go somewhere to play cards. Besides, I wouldn’t want one of
those mink things he keeps talking about. Think about the little
animals that died for those coats.”

Levi couldn’t help smiling. “I can see where Holly
gets her awareness of social issues.”

His step-mother shrugged into her long down coat,
shaking her head. “Holly’s much more socially-conscious than me,
I’m afraid. I just couldn’t wear those pelts on my back and not
think of the little animals who grew the fur.”

“Your down coat looks warm and you’re right, it does
look cold out there.” It struck him at that moment that his dad’s
last wife, Rebecca, wouldn’t have been caught dead in something
that made her look so dowdy.

Audrey smiled at him again. “Come on in here by the
fire while you wait. We wouldn’t want you to start the evening
chilly. You can enjoy the Christmas tree, too.”

Following her into the living room, Levi considered
that he might have been wrong about his father’s marriage. What
kind of golddigger got upset when a man bought her a cruise for
Christmas and didn’t see the need for an evening coat?

He hated being wrong almost as much as he didn’t like
Christmas hoopla, but a man needed to own up to his errors. Maybe
Audrey was everything his dad said. Holly still disliked their
marriage and Levi registered that he liked him and Holly working
together toward a goal. It made them a team and he liked the
connection, even if the issue of Mac and the documentary still
stood squarely between them. Hell, he’d like to be more connected
with Holly.

***

Christmas Eve stayed cloudy with light snow falling
as Holly followed her mother down the steps into the VFW hall,
where the annual Social Club met. It seemed odd to have a party
scheduled so close to Christmas when people usually spent time last
minute preparations for their big celebrations or visited with
their families—not always a happy experience, Holly knew—but the
Social Club members were of the older generation. Most didn’t have
youngsters in the area, her mother had explained. In this era of
divided and scattered families, it gave the members a place to
celebrate.