Chapter Twenty-seven
The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee penetrated Lina’s subconscious a moment before she heard Phil’s deep voice. “Time to wake up, beautiful. It’s nine o’clock.”
She smiled, opening her eyes to find Phil sitting on the edge of the bed beside her with a mug of steaming coffee. “You brought me coffee in bed.”
“I did.” He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas.” She’d forgotten. “How long have you been up?” He was already showered and dressed.
“A while. I worked out.” He helped her sit up, propping a pillow behind her before handing her the coffee.
“You didn’t shave.”
“No.” He scrubbed his hand down over his scruff, which after five days of not shaving was almost thick enough to be considered a beard. “Do you want me to?”
“No. I think it’s sexy.” She scraped her fingers through it. “How much time do we have?” She trailed her fingers down to the first button of his shirt.
“Not enough for that.” He stilled her hand with his, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing her palm. “I’ll let you unwrap me later. Alice is downstairs. You need to go referee.”
“Why?” She groaned. “I talked to her yesterday. She said she wasn’t coming until noon.”
“And you believed her?”
Without fail, if Phil’s parents were staying at their house, Lina’s mother showed up bright and early Christmas morning. If Susan Hunter was going to share in the memory of her grandchildren opening their Christmas presents, Alice was going to be there also.
“I thought maybe it would be different this year since she has Drew.”
“She brought him,” Phil said.
“You were nice to him, right? Please tell me you were nice to him.”
“I let him in, didn’t I?” He came to his feet. “Instead of pretending she isn’t going to show up when my parents are here, why don’t we just invite her? That way she’ll arrive at a normal time, like nine. She was here at seven thirty.”
“I can’t do that to your mother.”
“She’s here,” he said, his eyes widening. “I know you’re trying to protect my mother, but it’s not working. Alice is coming.”
“Is she cooking?”
“Yes, and my mom is at the table letting her run the show.”
Although she was too nice to ever say an ill word against Alice, Lina knew Susan Hunter wasn’t comfortable in her presence. For one, they were complete opposites. Susan was conservative and Catholic, while Alice was ultra-liberal and nonreligious. But the main reason—at least Lina assumed it was the main reason—was because Susan could sense Alice’s desire to usurp her role as a grandmother. Alice wanted to be the one serving them breakfast on Christmas morning and having an up-front view of the gift opening. Susan did everything she could to stay out of Alice’s way, not wanting any part of a competition.
“I’d better get down there.” She took a couple swallows of coffee before forcing herself out of bed.
As Lina observed Drew conversing with Bruce and Susan, she realized it was the first time Phil’s parents were meeting her father. It was a surreal moment witnessing her biological father, who she barely knew, interacting with the couple who had been like parents to her from the time she was a teenager.
“I think your father may be the most boring person I’ve ever met,” Phil whispered in her ear as he curved his hand around her waist. “If I were a good son, I’d go rescue my parents.”
“They seem fine.”
“They’re being nice. He’s teaching them about the programming language they use in robotics. I doubt they understand a word he’s saying.”
“Shhh. He’ll hear you.”
“No, he won’t. That would require him to stop talking.”
“Phil,” she warned.
When Shiloh and Julian arrived midafternoon, Phil’s jaw clenched. He’d only agreed to allow Julian in the house because Lina wanted to see Shiloh. The guy was a first class prick as far as Phil was concerned. He and Shiloh had broken up and got back together at least half-of-a-dozen times. Julian had left her in the middle of the night at parties with no way to get home, tossed her clothes onto their front lawn and told her to get out, and changed the locks to their house when she was at work. Each time, Shiloh had called Phil. Although Julian hadn’t done anything unseemly in over a year, Phil couldn’t trust or respect him.
He did, however, have a warm spot for Shiloh, who he thought of as a younger sister. With long curly brown hair and a youthful vibe, Shiloh sometimes seemed younger than her forty years. “Merry Christmas, Shi,” he said as he greeted her with a hug.
“Merry Christmas to you too.” She kissed his cheek. “And now I need alcohol,” she announced before slipping away.
When Julian moved to follow her, Phil stepped in his path. He had no idea what Shiloh saw in him. Katie had once said that he looked like a rat with his small eyes and narrow face. Phil agreed.
“I don’t want any trouble, Phil,” Julian said nervously. “I—”
“I don’t either,” Phil interrupted, his voice low enough not to be overheard. “But last time you were in my house you screamed at your wife in front of my children. If you so much as raise your voice while you’re in my home, I will personally deliver you to the curb. Understood?”
“Yeah.” Julian answered, nodding vigorously.
“Good.” Phil stared into his eyes until Julian dropped his gaze.
“Everything okay?” Lina asked, joining them. “Merry Christmas, Julian.”
“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled before stepping around her and hurrying away from them.
“You promised to be nice,” Lina whispered to Phil.
“I was. I just told him the ground rules.”
“That wasn’t being nice. It’s Christmas. The family is together. Let’s be thankful and forgiving. Just like the priest said during the homily last night. You were listening, right?”
“I let him in our home, didn’t I?”
“Be nice.” Lina stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be watching you,” she said before walking off.
Lina was peering into the oven several hours later to see how her Cornish hens were faring when Megan asked if there was anything she could do to help. “Remind me never to make Cornish hens again,” Lina answered.
“Why? They’re so good.”
“Making five is slightly less complicated than making fifteen. It wasn’t the smartest choice for a crowd. And in answer to your question, yes. Could you run down to the basement and grab some more ice? I think we’re running low.” As Megan headed off, Lina realized it was the first time she could remember Megan offering to help with dinner preparations. Normally only Logan offered, and even that was rare.
“Where do we keep the fancy plates?” Katie asked, coming into the kitchen from the dining room.
“The china? Why? Did I count wrong? There should be nine at the adult table and five at the kids’.”
“Matt and his grandma are coming. We need two more plates.”
“What?” She’d never even met Matt’s grandmother. “Katie, why are you telling me this right now? Dinner is in less than an hour, and I only made fifteen Cornish hens. That will make sixteen people.”
“I’ll share with Matt. Where are they?” She began opening cabinets, standing on her tiptoes to compensate for her height.
“You don’t just invite someone to Christmas dinner without asking.”
“I thought Dad would say no. Where are the plates?”
If the memory of her hangover weren’t so fresh, Lina knew she’d be pouring herself a glass of wine, and even with the memory the thought was tempting. “This isn’t okay.” She couldn’t imagine Phil’s reaction. Katie was right. He would have said no. Christmas was about family. He would never have allowed a boyfriend—any boyfriend—to come.
“I can’t uninvite them,” Katie said. “They’re supposed to be here in five minutes.”
“They are in the bottom drawer of the hutch in the dining room,” Lina said, resigning herself to the reality that they were coming.
“Where do you want it?” Megan asked, returning with the ice.
“The counter is fine. I need you to do me a favor. Go tell your father that Matt and his grandmother are coming for dinner.”
Megan frowned. “I thought we weren’t allowed to invite anyone until we’re engaged.”
“Please just tell your father.”
“But it’s not fair. When I was dating Brian you—”
“Megan, I know,” Lina said, cutting her off midsentence. “Just go tell him.”
Megan was gone less than thirty seconds when Phil came into the kitchen, his jaw set. “Lina, what in the hell?”
“Calm down,” Lina said, laying her hand on his chest. “This is news to me, too. She just told me.”
“She’s just going to have to uninvite them,” he said a second before the doorbell rang.
“They’re innocent in this,” Lina said, clasping his hand so he couldn’t walk away. “This was all Katie. There’s nothing we can do about it now, so we’ll just make the best of it.”
“He’d better have his tattoos covered,” Phil bit out before heading toward the door.
Lina made a point of not feeling sorry for people who came from different socioeconomic backgrounds. It seemed disrespectful. But when she saw Matt standing in the foyer of her home with his grandmother, her heart ached. Matt was dressed in the slacks and dress shirt that were part of the suit Lina had bought him for Alice’s wedding. He looked handsome but uncomfortable out of his normal uniform of faded jeans and a black T-shirt. His grandmother, who looked to be in her seventies, was short and plump and clearly more uncomfortable than her grandson, clutching a bouquet of flowers. She was wearing a faded green dress that had seen better days and a worn pair of black pumps.
“Merry Christmas,” Phil said, his voice relaying none of the displeasure he had voiced seconds earlier. He turned on his full charm offensive, as if she were a jury he was trying to sway instead of the grandmother of a boy he didn’t want in his house on Christmas. Lina had known he wouldn’t be rude, but he was going out of his way to make Matt’s grandmother feel welcome, and Lina knew it was because he could feel the other woman’s unease. She looked like a fish out of water in their palatial home.
***
Phil took another large helping of mashed potatoes. The carcass of his Cornish hen was completely stripped of meat, and he was still hungry. He watched his brother poking at his equally picked over hen and had to stifle a laugh. The meal may have been picture worthy, but it certainly wasn’t meant for a man, not one their size anyway.
He could hear the drone of Drew Rayburn’s voice from the far side of the table. It was basically in the background the entire day. He doubted they’d have to worry about Matt joining them again, at least not with his grandmother, who had made the unfortunate blunder of choosing the seat directly beside Drew’s. With the exception of the short time it took Phil to bless their meal, Drew had been talking to her nonstop.
His gaze shifted across the table to Lina, who was laughing at something Adele was saying. She’d always had the best laugh. The tone was higher than her voice, but not too high. As a teenager he’d try to think of funny things to say, just to hear that laugh.
She pushed back her chair and picked up her dish, coming around the table and silently exchanging hers for his. She pressed her lips into his cheek before returning to her seat. He looked down at the half-eaten Cornish hen before him. When he raised his eyes to hers, she mouthed I love you.
After the dessert dishes were cleared away, Phil followed his brother and father out onto the back deck to enjoy a cigar around the firepit. “Did either of you invite Drew?” Bruce asked.
“No,” Phil and Mike said in unison.
“The only reason I came out here was to get away from him,” Mike added.
“We can’t not invite him,” Bruce said, getting to his feet. “I’ll go see if he wants to join us.”
“This will help,” Phil said before pouring some more scotch into Mike’s glass.
“How does he not know how boring he is?” Mike asked. “He’s an astrophysicist. His IQ is probably above one fifty. Why isn’t he smart enough to figure what his audience finds interesting? I tried to steer the conversation away from molecular dynamics and asked him if he was a Ravens fan. Apparently, he is. Did you know there are eight subspecies of ravens and they live about twenty-one years?”
Phil laughed aloud. “Are you making that up?”
“No.” Mike continued. “They weigh about two and a half pounds. Maybe Lina should serve them for dinner next year instead of that tiny hen.”
Phil continued to chuckle.
“You think it’s funny because you basically ate two. Jeanie would have stabbed me with her fork if I tried to share hers. Speaking of which, do you think Lina could talk to her, maybe encourage her to go to the gym or wherever she goes to exercise? I swear she’s put on at least fifteen pounds in the past year.”
“How much have you put on?” Phil asked dryly.
“We’re talking about my wife.”
“You want a fit wife? Get your ass to the gym. Maybe she’ll join you. You have a gut, Mike.”
“True.” Mike patted his belly. “Maybe I should do a triathlon with you. The training will force me to get in shape.”
“You should do one,” Phil agreed, “but I think my triathlon days are over for a while. I have Liam every other weekend. There’s no time to train.”
“Mom and Dad were disappointed they didn’t get to meet him.”
“Me too. You should meet him.”
“I should,” Mike agreed. “Bring him by sometime.”
A feeling of unease again tugged at Phil when he thought of Liam.