“Stoppointing that thing at your pregnant wife,” I laughed, shielding Ashley with anarm. “But that’s a good point,” I said thoughtfully, and I found myselfstartled by just how out of practice I had been in the department of romanceand was quickly learning just how much better I was writing about it, ratherthan actually doing it.
Ashleytook over with the slicing of the ham to let Nick walk from room to room withthe announcement that dinner was about to be served. I insisted on taking the knifefrom her, giving her the gift of a few moments to get off her swollen feet andinto one of the kitchen table chairs. The sharp tool sliced through the hamwith ease and using my weapon wielding skills, thanks to research-requiredsword fighting lessons, I cut the meat with a precision and speed that madeAshley snort with laughter.
“Pal,you have that job from now on,” she said, kicking off her flat sequined shoes.“So, Nicky told me you’re rewriting the new book.”
“Yeah,”I confirmed and raised a brow, looking up at her from my carving. I was sureshe had never read one of my books, simply because battle and carnage werenever her cup of tea and to get through one of them would have beentorture.
“Tellme about it,” she said with a slight smile, hugging her arms around her bellyas she closed her eyes, taking the moment to enjoy the quiet kitchen. “Startfrom the beginning. I know nothing about your shit,” she laughedapologetically.
“Yeah,I figured,” I grumbled, and took a deep breath.
“Well,Alexander Breckenridge begins his story as a nobody. He works in the stables ata Lord’s castle but he always had dreams of doing something more. You know,something important that people would remember him by, so he practices with anold sword until he’s a pretty kick-ass swordsman.
“Then,one day he finds himself recruited by the King’s Guard to battle, afterwitnessing his unmatched skills with the sword. They’ve pulled him in to fightagainst a force they’ve never seen before, and because he’ssodamn good,they’ve assumed he’s prepared to face whatever the hell it is, and long storyshort, he blows their socks off.
“Anyway,this more or less has placed him into a much more notable position, and he’sfound himself doing well. He’s a Knight, the Lord of his own castle, has hispick of any woman he could possibly want and often has, has all the gold hecould ever want, and he saves entire villages and kingdoms from both thenatural and supernatural on a regular basis. He’s happy for a while, but heeventually realizes that, although it’s everything he’s ever dreamed of, it’s...” I noticed that the knife had stopped moving; my eyes staring into andbeyond the candied yams on the buffet table. “It’s, uh, pretty fucking empty.”
“Uh-huh,”Ashley said with an adoring smile, gesturing for me to go on.
“Herealizes that his heroic life means little if he can’t share it with someone.He wants someone to wait for him. He wants a son to carry on his family name.He wants … somethinghecares about to fight for, because all of thosekingdoms and people, they mean nothing but a paycheck to him at the end of theday.”
“So,basically, he needs a damsel to save and love.” Ashley batted her eyelashes,clutching her hands together for effect.
“Basically.”
“Andyou have this planned out, right?” I nodded, and her face took on a smugexpression. “So, I guess it shouldn’t be that hard.”
“What?”
“Thiswhole thing with Holly.”
Withthe ham successfully sawed off the bone and the meat piled haphazardly on aplatter, I dropped the butcher knife and set to washing my hands with Ashley’ssmirking stare boring holes into my back. The evergreen-scented soap filled mynostrils, reminding me that we were there for Christmas Eve dinner and not topiece together the ruins of my love life.
Rippinga paper towel from the dispenser, I turned back to Ashley. “My real life is alittle different than the life of a fictional character. I decide what goes onin his world, and I make it happen.” I tossed the paper towel in the garbagewith a smoothness that would make Shaq drool. “He needed a damsel, so I madeone up and gave him the skills to woo her with his charm and impressivemanhood. That’snothow the real world works.”
Thesounds of four dozen people swarming towards the kitchen seemed to fill thesurrounding area and we knew our time together was soon coming to a close.Ashley waved me over to her and with an arm around my back and a hand in mine,we together got her on legs that were immediately unsteady but within moments,she had regained her balance and waddled over to hastily drop serving spoonsinto the trays of food.
“Iknow nothing about your manhood—thank God—but you certainly have the charm,”she finally said, pointing a spoon in my direction. “All I’m saying is, youneeded a damsel, and the universe provided. All you have to do is decide whatcomes next, and make it happen.”
Whenthe room had filled beyond the point of breathing anything other than someoneelse’s air, I slipped through the double French doors to the back deck, where Itook a seat on one of the chaise lounges overlooking the lavish greenery of thebackyard. A light dusting of fresh snow had sprinkled over the yard, and stillrecovering from the suffocating warmth from inside, the chilled air hadn’tbegun to affect me through the comfortable thickness of my sweater.
Ilooked towards the sky, the snowflakes catching onto my eyelashes and specklingmy view of the stars. That hush had blanketed over the world—the one I hadalways perceived as being romantic. I allowed temptation to pull my imaginationtowards what Holly could have possibly been doing in that moment, and notsurprisingly, the only fantasy I could conjure was one of her in the arms ofsome guy far better looking than I was, with a body I could envy. There was abackdrop of a roaring fireplace, a couple glasses of an expensive wine, but thedetails were unimportant as I watched his hands roam down her back, lingeringon the ends of her dark hair before continuing their descent towards the ass Ihad watched walking away from me enough times to classify me as a pervert inthe eyes of women everywhere.
Jealousyburnt a hole through my mind’s projector, and I was looking at the sky again.The snow was falling at a steadier pace, and I wondered how long it would bebefore I could pass for Jack Nicholson’s character at the end ofThe Shining.
Icould always take Ashley’s convoluted advice.I chuckled withmischief at the thought of stealing another man’s woman. It had dawned on methat I had set out to do just that when I made the decision to kiss her underthe mistletoe. Some ridiculous attempt to get her to forget about the boyfriendwith my lips of sensual magic. A feeble attempt at taking a shot at her. I hadgiven her that gentle nudge without even the tiniest bit of guilt, but a guyreally up to no good would have chased her into the parking lot. That wasn’tme, and if that’s what it was going to take to steal her away from this guy, Iwasn’t up to the task.
“But,”I said to the dancing snowflakes, “she isn’t happy.”
Andthat was something to hold onto.
***
“MerryChristmas, sweetheart.” My mom’s voice was strained with emotion brought on byanother Christmas gone without seeing her only child’s face. “I wish you would comedown here and be with us for a while. There’s no reason to spend Christmasalone.”
“I’mnot alone, Mom.” I sighed, dropping the leather coat on the ornately carvedbanister as I climbed the stairs, not bothering to look into the darkness ofeither the empty kitchen or living room as I went.
“Brandon,you haven’t had a Christmas with us in two years!” she pleaded, driving apainful stake into my heart poisoned with guilt. I heard the gruff voice of myfather in the background, telling her to leave me alone. “Oh, stop it, Jack. Ican ask my son to spend one holiday with me.”
