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The Christmas Fix by Lucy Score (39)

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY

 

 

“My dad wants to invite you to dinner tonight,” Sara announced, sliding into the diner booth across from Cat.

Cat’s wrap fell from her hands onto the plate. She’d scored an honest-to-goodness lunch break that had landed the first official “Cat Wrap” in her freezing cold hands and had been busy warming herself up remembering each and every orgasmic detail with Noah the night before. At least, she had been before she was interrupted by the man’s daughter.

“Uh. Huh?” Cat wiped her mouth with a napkin and prayed she didn’t look like she’d been fantasizing about Sara’s dad naked.

“Dinner. Our house tonight,” Sara repeated.

“Is there a special occasion?” Cat asked, feeling like she was missing an essential piece of information. April Hai peered around the end of the counter at them holding a to-go bag.

Sara shrugged. “I aced my Earth Sciences test?”

“Congratulations?”

“Thanks. Bring some wine for you and my dad.”

“Oh, uh. Sure. Okay,” Cat said, baffled. They were supposed to be keeping this… romance a secret. Sara wasn’t supposed to know that her father was doing the horizontal mambo with Cat. “What time should I be there?”

“Eight,” Sara said, decisively. “We’re having salmon.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at eight,” Cat said.

Sara grinned. “Awesome! See ya tonight, Cat!” She turned and scampered off grabbing April’s arm and dragging her friend off to giggle somewhere about twelve-year-old things.

Cat shook her head and picked up her truly excellent chicken wrap. Kids.

 

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She meant to text Noah to confirm but got sucked into watching playback, and by the time she slipped away, she barely had enough time to shower and change. For the first time in her life, Cat wasn’t sure what to wear. What did the woman secretly sleeping with a twelve-year-old’s father wear to a family dinner?

She finally settled on jeans and an emerald green sweater with a V-neck. She pulled on a pair of suede booties and braided her still damp hair over her shoulder. Stylish, but not too sexy, she decided, studying herself in the mirror. Now she just had to remember not to grab Noah’s crotch or straddle him at the dinner table, and everything would be fine.

Since the night was cold as hell, and she was already running close to late, Cat drove the six blocks to Noah’s. She grabbed the wine Henry had selected and hurried up the porch steps. After a brief moment of debate of knocking or ringing the bell, she stabbed the bell with her gloved finger.

She heard yelling and footsteps, and then Noah was opening the door.

“Hi,” she said, breathlessly. He looked tousled and tasty. His hair was ruffled. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and was barefoot. She was definitely overdressed.

“Hey.” Noah’s face went through a range of emotion. Excitement, pleasure, lust, and then confusion. “What are you doing here?” he asked quietly, stepping out onto the porch with her.

“I’m here for dinner,” Cat reminded him. “Did I get the time wrong?”

“Dinner?” he repeated, blinking.

“Oh, good! You’re here,” Sara called from the foyer. “Geez, Dad, let her in before she freezes.”

Wordlessly, Noah stepped aside, and Sara pulled Cat inside.

“I hope you’re a good cook because we’re just getting started,” Sara said, practically dragging Cat’s coat off her shoulders.

“Uh, your dad didn’t seem to know that I was coming to dinner,” Cat pointed out.

Sara wrenched the bottle of wine away from Cat and handed it over to Noah. “Here, Dad. Go open this.”

“You want to explain why you’re inviting dinner guests over without telling me first?” Noah asked.

Sara rolled her eyes and ignored their questions. “Cat, take your shoes off. Dad, open the wine. Then we’ll chat.”

They both watched as Sara bopped back to the kitchen where a cheery pop song was playing.

“What’s happening?” Cat whispered.

“I think we’re being played,” Noah whispered back. “You look incredible by the way. I’ve missed you.”

Cat reached out to hold onto his arm while she pulled off her boots. “I might have missed you, too.”

“What are you wearing under that sweater?” Noah asked, peering down the neckline of her shirt.

“I don’t think you’re going to find out tonight,” Cat said, nodding toward the kitchen.

“Dad! Wine!” Sara yelled from the depths of the house.

“We’d better get back there,” he said, giving her subtle cleavage another look of longing.

“I feel like we’re walking into a trap.”

“Oh, we most certainly are. Welcome to parenting.”

Sara had three salmon filets on a baking sheet. She was dressing them with salt and pepper. There were two empty wine glasses and a corkscrew on the counter.

“Cat, do you want to do something with these tomatoes and asparagus?” Sara asked, jutting her chin toward the pile of produce next to the cutting board. “I printed out a recipe you can follow.”

Cat padded over to the veggies. “Recipe schmecipe,” she scoffed. “My nonni would slap me upside the head if she saw me using one. Just point me in the direction of your balsamic vinegar.”

Sara pointed, and Noah poured, and an 80s rock tune came on.

“Come on, Dad! It’s your jam,” Sara announced.

Noah shook his head, cheeks going a bit pink. “Nope. Not happening.”

“He does an air guitar solo that any other time I can’t get him to stop. Now suddenly he’s embarrassed,” Sara explained, shaking her head.

“Oh, I need to see this air guitar solo,” Cat insisted.

“No way.”

“It’s AC/DC. I’ll drum,” she offered.

It took a full glass of wine and a replay before Noah reluctantly performed. Cat laughed with Sara until her face hurt. While the salmon and veggies baked, Sara took Cat up to her bedroom to ask her advice on décor.

It was a typical pink bedroom littered with clothing and magazines and stuffed animals. The perfect cross-section of childhood and the teen years.

“Dad said I can repaint and stuff, but I’m not sure what I’m going for,” Sara mused, picking up a ragged stuffed dog and tucking it into a bin on the wall. “I like some of these ideas,” she said, pulling up Pinterest on her tablet.

“So, I see color, fun, but more grown up,” Cat said, studying the space and the pins. Two large windows overlooked the street. “That wall over there in a teal or a turquoise. And you need a new bed. You’ve got room in here for a queen. One of the ones with the upholstered headboards.”

“Um, that sounds awesome,” Sara decided, flopping onto her pink comforter.

“And you need better clothing organization,” Cat said, toeing a pile of crumpled t-shirts and leggings in front of the dresser.

Sara giggled. “That’s what my parents say, too.”

“If you’re into fashion, you have to treat your clothing well,” Cat pointed out.

“Okay, okay. I’ll clean up. But look. I found this rug that I love, but it’s got all these reds and oranges,” Sara said, pulling out her cell phone and calling up the picture.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Cat nodded. “That would look great with a dark teal wall. You could leave everything else white, walls, bedding. Maybe do something funky with the bedside lamps.”

“That sounds awesome,” Sara said. “I hope Dad will be okay with it. Sometimes I don’t think he wants me to grow up.”

Cat gave the girl a smile. “Sometimes parents have trouble with that,” she admitted.

“But you wouldn’t,” Sara said it as if she was sure of it. “You see growing up as an adventure, not something to be protected from.”

“Uhhh…” Cat wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“I think you’re good for my dad,” Sara continued.

They heard the beeping of the timer followed by Noah’s call for kitchen aid.

“Good, I’m starving,” Sara said, bounding past Cat and heading for the stairs. “Hey, Dad! Cat gave me some ideas for my room!”

“Can we still afford to send you to college?”

Cat wandered down to the kitchen where Sara was plating up the food.

“What happened? Any hints about what’s going on?” Noah whispered without moving his lips.

Cat shook her head. “Huh-uh. Not yet,” she whispered back.

“Come on, guys. Dinner’s ready,” Sara announced.

They sat cozily around the dining table. There was a small fake Christmas tree in the corner casting a soft glow. Candles in pine and cookie scents flickered on the mantel over yet another fireplace. Sara had switched the playlist to an instrumental Christmas station and dimmed the lights.

It was cozy, romantic. And Cat was starting to get an inkling of exactly what Sara was up to.

Cat had just speared her salmon filet when Sara leaned back in her chair.

“So, I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re here tonight,” she began as if she’d been addressing boards of directors since she was a toddler.

“I think that’s a safe assumption,” Noah said, sampling a bite of the asparagus.

“I know what you guys are doing,” Sara announced.

Noah choked on his asparagus and reached blindly for his water glass. Sara waited until his coughing fit eased.

“What exactly do you think we’re doing?” Noah asked, clearing his throat looking wild-eyed at Cat across the table.

“I know you’re dating. I know you think you’re hiding it, but honestly Dad, you’re terrible at hiding things. And I don’t see the point in you pretending you’re not really into Cat. She’s pretty awesome.”

“Thank you?” Cat said, picking up her wine glass, desperate for an alcoholic buoy.

“You’re welcome,” Sara nodded primly. “Mom’s getting remarried. It would be nice to see you move on, too, Dad.”

“Sara, Cat and I… we… a relationship isn’t really…” Noah gave up his stumbling and looked beseechingly at Cat.

“Your dad and I are in very different places in our lives, and while we’re enjoying spending time together, the potential for a future relationship just isn’t there,” Cat said.

Sara nodded as if the information wasn’t new to her. She looked down at her napkin. “I get that. But I think you’re both doing yourself a disservice by automatically discounting the idea of a relationship.”

Noah frowned at Sara. “Are you reading from notes?” he demanded.

Sara snatched the scrap of paper away out of his reach. “April helped. So, sue me.”

“April knows?” Noah asked.

“Dad, everyone knows. You two make goo-goo eyes at each other constantly. I’m surprised you thought you were being sneaky.”

“Everyone knows?” Cat repeated.

Sara shrugged. “Merry is small. People talk a lot. Especially when someone sees you getting out of a truck with steamed up windows. What I’m trying to say is don’t think you have to hide your ‘whatever you want to call it’ from me. I like you, Cat. And I think you two could make each other very happy if you give yourselves the opportunity to do so.”

Cat looked down at her lap. “That’s very sweet, Sara, but my life doesn’t exactly allow me to settle down in one place for longer than a week at a time. I have a place in Brooklyn that I see three months out of the year. I’ve got projects that require extensive travel, and I’ll probably end up moving wherever my school is built. You and your dad, your lives are here. It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask either one of you to pack up and follow me around.”

She felt Noah’s gaze heavy on her. Maybe they hadn’t pushed this discussion this far before, but it was something they were both aware of. They both knew there was no future here. Just fun. And disappointing a twelve-year-old made Cat feel like a monster. She didn’t want to feel guilty for choosing herself over Noah. But damn it, that’s what she wanted in life. She shouldn’t have to feel guilty for choosing what was best for her. That’s why she was single.

“What I’m hearing are a lot of problems and no solutions,” Sara said as she steepled her fingers. Now the kid sounded like Mini Noah.

“Sara, this is something that is really between Cat and me,” Noah reminded her.

Sara rolled her eyes. “Dad, you make it everyone’s business when you’re mooning over each other and then sneaking into alleys to make out.”

Cat covered her eyes with a hand. “Ah, crap.”

“Look, what you two decide to do is your choice. All I’m trying to do is save you the energy of pretending to hide it and asking that you at least consider what a future together could look like.”

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