“I heard yelling and wanted to check on you.” Kirk looked from Mary to Imogene. “Everything okay here?”
“Yes, everything’s okay.” Imogene had gone back to sounding like a teenager, and rolling her eyes like one, too. “She’s fine. Your girlfriend’s fine. I was just leaving.” Imogene kicked at the box of ornaments as she walked by it. Then she took an inordinate amount of time finding her coat and getting into it.
Kirk looked at Imogene, shrugged and turned back toward Mary. “There’s another reason I stopped by. Let’s go see Goody’s puppies. We need to put a down payment on one because apparently, they’re going fast.”
Mary welcomed the change of subject. It gave her a chance to settle her chaotic emotions, even if Kirk was being his usual pushy self. “Is Goody still mad about the whole situation?”
“Not so much,” Kirk said with a chuckle, “now that she’s realized how much of a gold mine these poodle mixes are.”
At the door now, Imogene turned to face them, her face tightening. “You can afford an expensive dog but you can’t help me financially?” She called Mary a bad name under her breath, but audible to both of them.
“Have some respect,” Kirk scolded.
“Shut up! Just shut up, old man!” Imogene glared at Kirk and then at Mary. “Don’t even try to be nice to me. Cooking me one lousy meal doesn’t make up for anything you did.” She stepped through the door and then leaned back in. “I’ll be in touch, and it won’t be pretty, unless you give me what we talked about.”
Weariness pressed in on Mary. She lifted the window curtain and peered out to make sure Imogene was gone and then sank down on the couch. “Oh, my, what a mistake,” she said. “I thought I could make a connection, but I was wrong.”
“Why do you even want to connect with that woman?” Kirk sat down on the edge of the couch and then stood again, his face red. “I get that she’s your stepdaughter, but she’s extremely disrespectful. What does she have on you?”
Mary’s throat tightened to the point where she couldn’t talk. She just waved a hand and shook her head, then stood and started putting ornaments back into the box.
When she came upon the old star Ben had liked to put atop the Christmas tree, she went still and held it in her hand. It was as if that kind man had come back to her. He would never have endorsed Imogene’s behavior.
But without Mary’s coming into his life, he might very well be alive now, providing Imogene with the guidance she so desperately needed, guidance she hadn’t gotten from her self-centered mother.
Mary should never have invited Imogene over, but the guilty young stepmother inside her still yearned to make things right with Ben’s angry, grieving daughter.
She should have known better. Even before the disaster, Imogene had tried to embarrass her in front of her friends and discredit her in front of Ben. In her eyes, Mary had stolen the attention of her only decent parent, her father, sweet Ben.
Thinking of him, thinking of her hopes and dreams of forming a strong, protective family for herself and her daughter and Ben and Imogene, Mary’s heart ached.
“I’m glad you came by,” she said to Kirk. “Thank you. But I can’t go see the puppies right now. I need a little alone time to pull myself together, if you don’t mind.”
Kirk came to stand beside her, took her hand and squeezed it. “I respect that,” he said, “and I’m always happy to help you, whatever the issue. Remember that.”
As he left, Mary looked after him, biting her lip. He’d help her now, but if he found out what had happened, he’d be singing a different tune.
ON SATURDAY NIGHT, Amber put an arm around Erica and squeezed her shoulders. “Thanks for coming. I needed a sisters’ night out.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss Crabby Christmas for anything! And there’s no one I’d rather be here with than you.”
“Not even your handsome husband?” Amber teased.
“Not even him,” Erica said firmly. “Because I wouldn’t be able to relax and enjoy cocktail hour if he and Hunter were here.”
“Cheers.” Amber tapped her mocktail against Erica’s glass and then leaned back on her bar stool to survey the scene. DiGiorno’s Restaurant was lit with tiny white lights and candles on each table. Big windows looked out on the bay, and the remains of a spectacular sunset lit the sky pink and orange. The room was loud with people talking and laughing and glasses clinking.
Crabby Christmas was an annual event that started with an adult cocktail hour and then continued with various family activities. Most people in town participated in at least some of the festivities. Amber spotted Kirk James and his father, Drew and Ria Martin, and even Goody, who was rarely seen outside her own restaurant.
Bisky Castleman was serving as an emcee, resplendent in a gem-encrusted red dress that was a departure from her usual worker’s attire. Her hair was pulled back as usual, but it looked softer when accentuated with big sparkling earrings, and she wore makeup that emphasized her eyes and high cheekbones. Amber wasn’t the only one who noticed the transformation, judging from the admiring way several local men watched her.
“You know, Bisky is actually gorgeous,” she said.
“Right? I never noticed that about her before. She usually hides her looks.”
“She has a spectacular figure, now that it’s not covered up in fishing clothes.” Bisky was tall and always looked fit, but in the dress she was wearing, her tiny waist, well-endowed chest and long legs were displayed to advantage.
Bisky waved to them and then grabbed her microphone. “Okay, everyone, start making your way over to Goody’s. I hear Santa’s arrived, and there’s hot
