Family Fruitcake Frenzy Read online

  Vance kissed Milly. I looked over at Tom. He squeezed my hand and smiled at me in a soft, easy way that made my stomach relax. What on earth did I have to complain about?

  Still, the compulsion overtook me.

  “I’ve been held hostage all day in hillbilly hell,” I blurted.

  Milly’s left eyebrow shot up. “Well, it’s Saturday, so I know you’re not talking about me or Griffith & Maas,” she quipped.

  Her response wasn’t what I’d been fishing for. After a whole day of trying to keep tabs on my hard-drinking, country cousin, I was in dire need of a sympathetic ear.

  “I’m talking about Tammy,” I said. “Geeze, Louise. Today was awful. I feel like I’m being punished for some horrible crime I didn’t commit.”

  Milly shrugged. “What do you want us to do about it, Val? If you don’t like her company, tell her to leave.”

  I scowled. “You’ve met my family, Milly. It’s not that easy.”

  “Wait a minute,” Tom interjected. He locked eyes with Milly. “You’ve met Val’s family?”

  Milly shrugged. “Not everyone. Her mom. Stepdad. Couple of aunts and uncles.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Tom said.

  “That’s why I was talking to Milly about it,” I whined. “She understands. Milly, my cousin is a two-timing twit.”

  Milly laughed. “I haven’t had the pleasure, but I’ll take your word for it.”

  “I can corroborate her observation,” Tom said in his cop voice.

  Vance laughed. “Sounds like there’s a story behind that remark.”

  Tom shook his head. “Don’t ask.”

  “Believe me, Tom,” Milly said, “no matter how bad Tammy is, she’s merely a little sample of what you have in store.” She smirked and raised her beer to make a toast. “Happy holidays!”

  A crowd of people at the bar cheered, as if in response to Milly’s toast.

  “Looks like someone scored,” Vance said to Milly. “Mind if I go check on the game? I’ll just be a minute.”

  Milly gave him the googly eyes again. “Not at all.”

  “I think I’ll go with him,” Tom said. “Stretch my legs.”

  After the two men left, I ambushed my poor, unsuspecting friend.

  “Geeze, Milly! Tammy’s the Jekyll and Hyde of Greenville! What was I thinking? I actually used to think of her as a role model!”

  Milly stared at me like I was crazy. “What are you talking about?”

  I hung my head. “I never told anyone, but Tammy was a big reason why I left Jimmy Johnson. Believe it or not, I thought she knew the secret to having a happy life.”

  “What?” Milly looked horrified.

  I shook my head. “I know. But ever since she was a kid, Tammy’s always done as she darn well pleased. Ugh! She still does! The thing is, Milly, I thought Tammy was right. I was miserable with Jimmy, for sure. So I followed her example. I ditched him without really thinking it through.”

  “Val, it was time to leave Jimmy. Don’t beat yourself up on that score.”

  I smiled at Milly. “Thanks. But here’s the thing. What I didn’t realize until today was the path of destruction Tammy leaves in her wake. I wonder...have I done the same thing?”

  Milly reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “Are you kidding? Look, Val. We all dream of starting over once in a while. And sometimes, letting things go is the right thing to do. And by things I mean people, too – like Jimmy. I mean, who knows? Nobody’s perfect. And not all things are meant to last a lifetime.”

  I sighed with relief. “Thanks for not judging me too harshly.”

  “We all make mistakes, Val. Some of us learn from them. Others repeat the same ones over and over, like gerbils on a wheel.”

  I rubbed a hand on my forehead and grimaced. “It took me way too long to get off that wheel, Milly.”

  Milly smiled. “Hey, at least you’re not on it now. For the record, I love you, you know.”

  The knot in my stomach relaxed. I smiled. “Thanks. I love you, too. Hey, Milly?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Tom made a joke the other night, but I don’t think he was actually joking. He said he wanted us to be each other’s ‘private property.’”

  Milly crinkled her button nose. “What do you mean? Like exclusive? I thought you guys already were.”

  “Yeah. But I’m not so sure about –”

  Milly sat up straight. “Sure about what, Val?” She glanced toward the men at the bar and lowered her voice. “Are you saying you think you can do better than Tom? He’s a great guy!”

  My eyes widened. “No. I mean....no!” I shook my head softly. “That’s not what I mean at all!”

  Milly folded her arms across her chest. “Then what did you mean?”

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I don’t want things to change, Milly. I’m not thinking I could do better than Tom. I’m afraid things could get worse between us. A lot worse. If we took the next step, I mean.”

  “The next step?” Milly unfolded her arms and leaned in across the table. “Has Tom proposed to you?”

  “No! But. I mean, he might.”

  “And if he does?”

  “I don’t know. This whole ‘living together’ thing. It never seems to work out for me. It’s like that old saying, familiarity breeds contempt, right?”

  Milly laughed. “In your case, I think it’s family breeds contempt.”

  “I’m not joking, Milly.”

  Milly smirked. “Neither am I.”

  I swallowed a knot in my throat and changed the subject. “So, how are things going with you and Vance?”

  Milly’s eyes went all googly again.

  “SORRY THAT TAMMY ENDED up ruining our weekend, Tom,” I said as he drove us back to my place.

  Tom offered me a sympathetic smirk. “You know Val, for someone who hates to apologize, you seem to be doing a lot of it lately.”

  “I’m sorry....” I caught myself and laughed. “How is it that the mere thought of some people can make your stomach knot up?”

  Tom smiled and touched his hand to my cheek. “It’s okay, Val. I’ve got a few fruitcakes in my family bakery, too.”

  As Tom pulled up in my driveway, I noticed Tammy’s car was gone. My house, however, was lit up like Grand Central Station. My dear cousin had left every bulb I owned burning. Still, I exhaled with relief at the idea she wasn’t inside waiting for me.

  “Looks like Tammy’s not here, Tom. Want to come in? Maybe have a fruitcake nightcap?”

  Tom smirked. “Or maybe a nightcap with a fruitcake?”

  I punched him on the arm. He laughed. “I guess I could be persuaded to see you to the door.”

  When I turned the front doorknob, it gave way. Tammy had left it unlocked. How thoughtful. Geeze! Good thing Tom is with me.

  “Would you mind scouring the place for hidden ax murderers?” I asked. “I’ll make you a Tanqueray and tonic for your troubles.”

  “Always ready to serve,” Tom laughed.

  As he disappeared down the hallway, I yelled after him. “And turn out some lights along the way!”

  I poured gin into two highball glasses and clunked in a few ice cubes. I’d just added the tonic and slices of lime when Tom returned.

  “Those look good,” he said. “I think it’s time for a toast.”

  We raised our glasses. “To what?” I asked.

  “To us, of course,” Tom said, and winked at me.

  I grinned. “To us.”

  As the glasses clinked together, I savored the tinkling sound in the blessed silence.

  “It’s so quiet without Tammy here,” I whispered.

  “Looks like you can get used to it,” Tom said. “It’s not just Tammy that’s gone. Her ugly suitcases are, too.”

  Chapter Eight

  “CRAP ON A CRACKER!” I yelled.

  “Geeze, Val,” Tom laughed. “I thought you’d be happy.”

  I bit my lip. “Tammy’s gone, Tom. And I’m...respon
sible.”

  “Responsible? Says who? From what I’ve seen, the woman can take care of herself just fine.”

  I set my gin and tonic down and glanced over at the kitchen counter. “She didn’t take the aspirin I left out for her. Hopefully, that means she wasn’t sick.”

  Tom smirked. “She didn’t take your stereo, either. I guess we can rule out robbery as a motive for her visit.”

  “Weird.” I crinkled my nose and bared my teeth. “I should feel bad, shouldn’t I?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Guilt’s been programmed into my DNA, okay?”

  Tom raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I believe that.”

  “Tom, I don’t get it. Why the hell did she come here in the first place if she was going to be nothing but a pain in the butt, trash my place, and not even have a civil word to say?”

  “As far as I can tell, Tammy was just looking for a free place to crash while she found herself a new guy to castrate.” Tom winked and shot me a boyish grin. “Or maybe your merciless mattress scheme worked after all.”

  I grinned despite myself. “Well, then. Here’s to the mattress for a job well done.” I raised my glass in the air.

  “To the mattress,” Tom echoed, and finished his drink.

  “Want another?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Why not. With Tammy gone, I can finally spend the night.”

  I opened the fridge to grab another lime from the veggie drawer.

  “Tammy took the cake,” I said.

  “She sure did.”

  I stood up and turned around. “No, Tom. I mean the fruitcake. She took it.”

  Tom’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Why would she do that?”

  I shook my head in wonder. “I have no idea.”

  “She left the house unlocked,” Tom chided. “Maybe a drunk hobo wandered in and stole it.”

  “Ha ha,” I sneered. “Bad theory. If a drunkard took it, he would have stolen the booze, too.”

  “Good point, Valiant Stranger,” Tom joked.

  I stuck my superior detective nose in the air and opened the kitchen cabinet to prove my point. My heart skipped a beat. The bottle of spiced rum was missing, too.

  “Okay. Now I’m officially worried,” I said.

  Tom pursed his lips. “I’ll give the house another look through, just in case.”

  WITH MY HOUSE COP-CERTIFIED free of all vagrants, rum and fruitcakes, Tom and I went back to our original weekend plans. After a night of making love, we awoke Sunday morning to the bliss of hitting the snooze button and cappuccinos in bed. I was first to get up that morning, so I brewed us up a batch. I handed Tom his cup and snuggled back into the sheets beside him.

  “I could get used to this,” he said, and wrapped an arm around me.

  I smiled to hide a sudden pang of fear. “Me, too.”

  “We should decorate your place for the holidays, Val. You’ve got plenty of room for a Christmas tree.”

  I scowled. “What for?”

  Tom squeezed me playfully. “What for? Is that all the holiday spirit you’ve got?”

  “Yes. Disappointment’s destroyed the rest.”

  Tom laughed. “Come on. Not even a sprig of mistletoe?”

  “No,” I whined.

  Tom set his cup on the nightstand and kissed me on the nose. “Come on. Mistletoe could be fun....”

  “Hah! I doubt it,” I groused and squirmed away. I always played hard to get on Sunday mornings. It was kind of “our thing.”

  “Now don’t be that way,” Tom teased and pulled me back toward him. “Santa sees you when you’re grouchy, you know.”

  “And he sees you when you’re sleazy!”

  Tom laughed. “Sleazy?” He grabbed my cup and put it on the nightstand beside his. “I’ll show you sleazy.”

  He did.

  “SPEAKING OF HOLIDAY disasters, Laverne invited us to dinner,” I said. Tom and I were lying tangled up together in the hammock in my backyard, enjoying the beautiful view of the Intracoastal Waterway and the delicious exhaustion of afterglow.

  “Who was talking about holiday disasters?” Tom asked.

  “Oh. Maybe I was just thinking about them.”

  “Val,” Tom sighed, “you’ve got six more days before we head to your mom’s. All this worrying. You’re starting to make me have second thoughts about going.”

  I squirmed up onto an elbow until we were nose-to-nose. “No way are you backing out on me now, mister! I promised my mother. Besides, of all the people I know, you’re the only one with a reliable car. Except Milly, of course. And she’s refused to ever set foot in Jackson County again.”

  Tom grimaced. “Why?”

  I laid back down beside him and crossed my arms. “I plead the fifth. So, does Thursday or Friday work better for you?”

  Tom reached across my arms and took my hand. “I’ll take you any day of the week.”

  I smirked. “I mean for Laverne’s dinner party. She gave us the option.”

  “It’ll have to be Friday, Val. We’ve got my precinct party Thursday, remember?

  “Oh, that’s right. With all the stuff going on....”

  Tom put a pout on his lips and a feminine spin on his voice. “I can’t believe it. You forgot all about it, didn’t you?”

  “I did not! I...had a...temporary memory lapse.”

  Tom hugged me to him. “Wow. Picture that. Val Fremden getting old and losing it like the rest of us.”

  I sneered. “I’m still younger than you.”

  Tom grabbed his chest. “And she takes her killer shot.”

  “Ha ha. So, Friday for Laverne. I’ll let her know.”

  “What have you got planned for the rest of the day, young lady?”

  “Apologies.”

  Tom looked at me sideways. “What?”

  “Tammy was awful to Winnie. I want to go by Davie’s and apologize.”

  “I could go for a donut.”

  I smiled at my handsome cop. “I had a feeling you could.”

  PULLING OUT OF MY DRIVEWAY in Tom’s silver 4Runner, we spotted Winnie’s decrepit Dodge van ambling down the road. To my surprise, it pulled into Laverne’s driveway instead of mine. The doors flew open and Winky, Jorge and Goober piled out like a chain-gang of incarcerated elves. Each had on a red Santa hat and a bright-green vest. The scene made me think of an idea for a low-budget horror flick. Santa’s Chain Gang of Evildoers.

  “Stop the car,” I told Tom needlessly. He already had.

  “What the heck are those three up to now?” he asked.

  “I dunno. Let’s find out.”

  Tom turned off the engine. We piled out and picked our way across the lawn toward Laverne’s place. Elfin-clad Jorge ran over to meet us. The dark-skinned Latino grinned from ear to ear and waved a rolled-up piece of paper at us. He called out to us cheerfully.

  “Hola, Val and Tom!”

  “Hey, buddy!” Tom called back. “What you got there?”

  “It’s a drawing.” Jorge unrolled the scroll and held it out for us to examine. Etched in black ink was a rough sketch of Laverne’s house. On one end of the roof, a Santa-like figure pulled the handle on a slot machine. At the other end, seven reindeer kicked a back leg up and danced the cancan.

  “What on earth...?” Tom mumbled.

  “It’s our new business,” Jorge explained. “We’re the Three X-migos. We’re gonna put up holiday lights for people. Laverne’s our first customer!”

  “That’s pretty cool!” Tom said.

  “I wanted to call it HAWG,” Winky interjected. “That’s short for Horge And Winky, ‘n’ Goober. But them two voted it down.” Winky pouted, then tugged on the bottom hem of his green vest for emphasis.

  “Winky,” I explained, “Jorge doesn’t start with an H.”

  “It don’t?” Winky scratched underneath his Santa cap and spit a stream of brown chew into the grass. “Dang. Now I got to rewrite all my Christmas cards.”

  Tom took the scroll from Jorg
e and studied it as the third elf, Goober, approached.

  “Wow,” Tom said. “This is actually a great idea. Who did the drawings?”

  “Yo. I mean, me!” Jorge beamed.

  “I love it, Jorge!” I said. “How many customers have you got?”

  “Counting Laverne, a grand total of one,” Goober deadpanned.

  I looked up at my tall, lanky friend. Goober had earned his nickname through the misfortune of having a bald head shaped exactly like a roasted peanut. Standing next to Winky and Jorge, six-foot-tall Goober looked like a stand in for Will Ferrell in Elf.

  “One customer, huh? Well, you’ve got to start somewhere,” Tom said. “You can do my house, if you want.”

  “Hot dog!” Winky hollered.

  “Watch your language,” Jorge warned his freckle-faced colleague. “We’re elves, now.”

  Winky pursed his lips and nodded solemnly.

  “Why don’t you boys look darlin’!” Laverne yelled from her doorstep. “I got a pot of coffee on. Y’all come on in!”

  I grabbed Tom by the arm and yelled back at Laverne. “We’ve got to go by Davie’s Donuts. I promised this cop a donut, and I need to apologize to Winnie.”

  “What for?” Winky asked.

  “For my cousin Tammy. She treated her awful.”

  Winky laughed. “Oh, my old Winnie girl is all right. Sure, she was jealous for a little bit. But she calmed down when I told her I preferred brains over boobs. No disrespect, but that cousin a yore’s wern’t no inner lectual.”

  “What?” Tom asked.

  I nudged Tom on the arm and shook my head. I scanned the three men’s faces capped in red Santa hats and tried not to smirk. “So, who’s the genius behind this new scheme?”

  Goober raised an index finger. “That would be me.”

  “Where’d you get the idea?”

  “Saw a flyer on a light pole. Sounded easier than going back to work for the public school system.”

  I nodded. “Well, you can’t argue with that.”

  Chapter Nine

  IT WAS MONDAY MORNING at Griffith & Maas. Milly and I took a coffee break in her office to swap weekend gossip. I filled her in on all the gory details about my strange visit from Cousin Tammy. I’d tried to put a funny spin on the story, but it seemed to put Milly in a funk instead. She took a sip of coffee and stared blankly out the window.