Moonlight and Motor Oil

Addie

THE WOMAN HAD parked in front of Toby’s side of the garage, which meant he couldn’t roll in and shut her out.

I didn’t get the chance to advise him to slam it in reverse and peel away.

He drove forward and parked on my side of the garage.

His seatbelt was off and he was knifing out before I could blink.

Which meant I scrambled to get my seatbelt off and jump out so I could get to him.

Shit.

I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t have the time to make up my mind. She’d walked to the trunk of her car and Toby was already squared off against her.

Thus I had no choice.

I did the only thing I could do.

I rushed to him, burrowed under his arm until he was forced to put it around me, plastered my front to his side, wrapped my arms around his middle.

And I stuck.

“Tobias—” she started.

“This is not happening,” he rumbled so low, it wasn’t a growl, it was a roll of muted thunder.

“Tobias, please,” she begged, leaning slightly toward him.

I looked at her.

And I saw it.

I got it.

Or some of it.

A thick head of what I suspected, as we only had the moonlight, white-gray hair that was long and falling down in soft waves that hung past her shoulders. Tall and slender, even willowy, and I could see that regardless of the fact she was wearing a female version of a bulky peacoat.

Both fabulous.

Same with her face.

Perfectly proportioned feminine features that would not only turn a man’s eye but capture his mind and his heart and not let go.

She looked like a mature model. Like she could walk right into a Viagra ad and have half the male membership of AARP reaching for their phones to make a doctor’s appointment.

“Sierra, I don’t know what you’re doin’ here . . .” Toby began, and I saw her head jerk sharply when he used her given name, “but I can tell you right now, it serves no purpose.”

“Please, Tobias. Give me thirty minutes. I’ve been waiting for two hours for you to come home. It’s cold. And—”

I knew she said the wrong thing when I felt Toby’s tense body string taut.

“Well, shit, Sierra,” he spoke over her. “Two hours? That sucks. Hell, waiting sucks. I know. Seein’ as I waited thirty fuckin’ years for my mother to come home.”

Oh God.

My man.

I held on tighter.

She winced at his words.

“Go back wherever you came from, I don’t wanna hear your shit,” Toby finished.

She reached out a hand when it seemed Toby was preparing to move us.

“Please. Please,” she begged.

Toby started to move us.

“I know your dad passed,” she declared. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry, Tobias. He was too young to go.”

Toby stopped moving us.

She dropped her hand.

“My dad?” he asked. “My dad?”

Oh shit.

Her being there was all wrong. Everything that came out of her mouth was all wrong.

But now she’d said something really wrong.

“Yeah, Sierra, my dad passed. But also, your husband passed.”

Yeah, what she said was really wrong.

“Tob—”

He interrupted her again. “Just gettin’ this out of the way, you fucked his shit up, but he was never stupid. He changed his will, Sierra. He gave Johnny and me everything. If you’re here to cash in, think again.”

She reared back. “I’m not here for money.”

“That’s good ’cause you’re not getting any.”

“Tobias, I want to explain.”

“Explain what?” It was Toby’s turn to lean toward her, and since I was latched on, he took me with him. “I was three.”

“Son—”

“I’m not your fucking son,” he snarled. “You’re nothing to me. You’re nothing to Johnny. Nothing but a bad memory.”

“My Lord,” she breathed, staring at him, her face pale in the moonlight.

Toby didn’t miss it.

“You expected a different reaction?” he asked, straightening us both. “Seriously? I’ll stay for this just ’cause I’m curious. What did you expect, Sierra? Tears and hugs and me tellin’ you how much I missed you? Well, I didn’t miss you. I didn’t ever fuckin’ know you. I missed the concept of having a mother who carried me in her body who would not leave. I wondered what the fuck was wrong with me, my father, my brother, that she could go without even an explanation, and never come back. You I did not miss.”

“There were reasons. And I’m asking you to give me the courtesy of hearing them.”

“At eleven thirty, a half an hour before Christmas Eve when you ambush me at my home?” he shot back.

“You can imagine I didn’t know how to approach,” she murmured. “And I didn’t expect you to be home this late.”

“I can’t imagine dick, Sierra, ’cause, you see, I would never do what you did. I reckon this is probably hard for you, but I cannot express how little I care. Get gone. I have no interest in what you have to say. I don’t when you show as an extra special Christmas surprise at my house, and I won’t if you send a letter askin’ me to sit down with you on neutral ground and hear your shit. And to make this crystal, I don’t now, I won’t later, and I never will.”

With that, Toby moved us, me shuffling because I was turned to the side.

I was about to let him go with an arm and shift so I could walk normally when she said, “I know Johnathon lives at the mill.”

Toby stopped dead and both of us turned our heads to look at her.

“Is that a threat?” Toby asked.

“I’ve been . . . I’ve been in town for a while. I’ve been watching my boys. Trying to figure out how to . . . well . . .”

“So you’ve been stalking us,” Toby said.

“Watching you,” she replied quietly. “Watching my boys.”

She lifted a hand our way and I didn’t know what came over me. I actually leaned toward her and bared my teeth.

She looked to me and dropped her hand.

“You both chose well,” she said quietly to Toby. “Better than your father.”

“No shit?” Toby clipped.

“I was thrilled, Tobias, to see you both settled and so happy.” Her gaze came to me. “Your son is adorable.”

God.

This horrible woman had been watching me, Toby . . .

Brooks.

“You are totally creeping me out,” I spat.

“They’re my boys,” she replied.

“Go away,” I returned.

“They’re my boys,” she said plaintively. “I’m sure you, of all people, understand.”

“Are you insane?” I asked. “No, I don’t understand.”

“But—”

“Go away,” I demanded.

“I—”

I pulled from Toby, spun on her and snapped, “Get gone or I’m calling the police. You’re trespassing. We’ve asked you repeatedly to leave. So you’re also harassing.” I had no idea if this second was true, I was winging it. And I kept doing that. “And you’ve admitted to stalking. If you don’t want your return to Matlock to include jailtime, get in your car and go.”

With that, I snatched up Toby’s hand and tugged him toward his front door.

He didn’t fight it, he came with me. His legs longer, he surpassed me and eventually was tugging me, so I started moving double time.

We walked down the long porch that ran the side of the garage (that really could use some Adirondack chairs or a cool bench) and he put his key to the lock in his door.

We were in and he flipped the lights so the cannisters over the kitchen illuminated.

He needed some lamps. He only had a standing one by his sofa.

Sadly, I was getting Christmas ideas way too late.

Though what I’d gotten him, he was gonna love.

After he hit the lights, I closed the door.

Locked it.

Turned to him.

Squeezing his hand, I whispered, “I hate to say this, baby, but I think you need to call and warn Johnny.”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“I’m gonna keep a lookout on her,” I told him. “If she doesn’t go, I’m calling the cops. Are you cool with that?”

“I’m absolutely cool with that.”

There was that pissed-off growl I loved so much (well, I did when it wasn’t aimed at me).

He let my hand go and moved into his house.

I turned to look out the door, realizing belatedly I left my purse in the car and my phone was in my purse.

Shit.

Fortunately, in no time at all, I saw her taillights in Toby’s drive.

“Johnny, yeah, sorry, no. Everything’s all right but everything isn’t all right,” I heard Toby say.

I watched the taillights turn right and only then did I move into the room, pulling off my coat.

“She gone?” he asked me.

I nodded.

He went back to his phone. “Yeah, I know, sorry it’s late and thanks, glad Brooks is okay but . . .” Long pause. “Fuck . . .” he bit off and said no more.

I moved into the kitchen to start going through his cupboards.

Tobe drank beer.

He might partake of Izzy’s infused vodkas, but only because he liked my sister.

And on occasion, he, his brother and Dave enjoyed a fine Kentucky bourbon.

I had a feeling it was Bourbon Time.

“Shit, brother, okay, no way to soften this,” he said. “Addie and I got home and Sierra was waiting for us in my driveway.”

I located the bourbon and switched my mission to finding a glass.

“Yeah, I know.” Pause. “No, it wasn’t pleasant. Addie had to threaten her with calling the cops to get her to leave.” Pause. “Yeah, she did. Sierra’s gone.” Pause, then lower, “I know, Johnny.”

With glass and bourbon, I turned to the island and glued my eyes on him.

He was at the far end of it, head bowed, phone to his ear.

I opened the bottle and poured.

“She said she wanted to explain. She said she’s been watching us. She knows about Adeline, Eliza and Brooklyn. And she says she knows you’re at the mill.” Pause. “Yeah, like a threat. She could be comin’ to you, Johnny.”

I walked his way and his head came up.

I handed him the glass.

He stared in my eyes, his motor oil ones were liquid and tortured.

So I moved to him and pressed to his front, wrapping my arms around him.

He slid his arm with whiskey glass in hand around me, and his gaze unfocused as he went back to Johnny.

“I don’t know. She just said she wanted to explain. She knows Dad’s gone. I didn’t give her a lot of opportunity to talk.” Pause. “Yeah.” Another pause, and again lower, “Yeah, we’re gonna have to tell them. Tomorrow. Who knows what she’s up to or is willin’ to do. She might go to them, and Dave’s gotta know so he can protect Margot.”

Shit and damn.

I pressed closer.

His attention came back to me.

“Right,” he said into his phone. “I’m down with that. But call me, she shows at yours.” Pause. “Right.” Pause. “Right.” Pause, “Yeah, love you too, Johnny. Later.”

He disconnected, I heard his phone clatter on the granite countertop of his island then he transferred his bourbon from the hand at my back to his free one, lifted it to his mouth and downed half of the healthy dose I’d poured him.

“Honey,” I whispered, pressing closer.

He looked down at me. “I can’t help you put the appetizers together before going to work. But I’ll bring the stuff to yours before the party. First thing in the morning, Johnny and I are going to Margot and Dave’s.”

I had the summer sausage, cheese and mustard I was going to put out at my place for snack boards that Toby was going to slice up and arrange for me.

The ingredients for the cheesy spinach filling for the puff pastries Tobe was going to shove in some muffin tins, bake and fill at my pad were at his place. The filling I was going to make in the morning.

I was going to slather the brie and cranberry on fresh cut bread when I got home.

That was just apps.

Tomorrow was totally going to be a Monty Python explosion.

I nodded to my man.

“You okay?” I asked.

He lifted the glass of bourbon to his lips and drained it.

Well, that answered that.

I pushed closer. “Honey, what can I do?”

He looked down at me.

Then he leaned into me to put his glass on the counter.

After he did that, he cupped his hand on my jaw.

He said not a word through any of this.

“Toby, baby, what do you need from me?” I whispered.

“Thought you’d take a bite outta her,” he murmured, his eyes moving over my face.

“Tobe—”

“I wanted to shout in her face, you holdin’ on, I didn’t give too much away. I could play it cool.”

“You did. Justifiably angry but dismissive. You were awesome,” I told him.

“I wanted to let loose. I wanted to tell her she destroyed any possibility of my dad ever bein’ happy. I wanted to tell her witnessing that wounded something I thought would never heal in me. But she couldn’t have that. It would have given her power.”

“You’re right, and you didn’t do that and that’s good.”

“I didn’t because you had me.”

“You didn’t because you’re Toby.”

“No, Addie, I didn’t,” his hand on my jaw pulled me up to my toes, “because you had me.”

I loved he thought that.

However . . .

“That was all you, baby,” I said gently.

“It was me because I have you. Toby of a year ago would have torn into her. Your Toby does not give that first shit outside the fact I don’t want her bothering Johnny and Izzy, and I seriously do not want her anywhere near Margot.”

I slid my hands up his back. “You’ve always been this Toby.”

“No, I’m only this Toby with my Addie. I’m a better man around you. I’m a better man for you. I don’t care if that sounds like it’s from a movie. As you say, romancelandia. It’s just fuckin’ true.”

God.

I totally, absolutely and completely loved it that he thought that.

“Honey,” I breathed.

He bent his head and kissed me.

He lifted it when he was done.

“I wanna fuck you, do it hard, and do it right now. But Johnny’s gonna call if she shows, and I don’t wanna be buried deep in you and get that kind of call from my brother and not have my head with him.”

That was disappointing.

But understandable.

So I nodded and said, “But let’s go to bed. You wanna take up another glass of bourbon?”

“Only warmth I need is my Addie.”

God, I loved him.

I moved my arms from around his back to around his shoulders, pressed my face in his neck, pushed close and held him in a tight hug.

“I’ll take tomorrow off,” I told him.

He gave me a squeeze I read as he wanted my attention, so I pulled away to give it to him.

“You can’t do that,” he said when he caught my gaze. “Marlon’s probably already called your references, but if he hasn’t and he calls Michael, and Michael tells him you bailed on the busiest day of the year, that won’t be good. You haven’t accepted the offer yet, so nothing is official. And she doesn’t get to fuck our shit and interfere with our lives. We got a plan. We stick with that plan as best we can. Hopefully, she’ll go away. If she doesn’t, we’ll deal.”

I did not like this.

I did not like not being able to be free to be there for him the next day if he needed me.

But I had the sense he needed normalcy.

So I agreed.

“Okay, honey.”

“Now let’s go to bed.”

“I need to run out to the truck and get my purse. I left it there.”

He shook his head then tipped his beard to the stairs. “Go up. Get ready for bed. I need to pull the truck in anyway. I’ll grab it.”

“Okay.”

He bent his head to touch his mouth to mine before he let me go and walked to the door to the garage.

I did not go up and get ready for bed.

That woman was out there, and I’d seen her drive away.

But I was not taking any chances.

I put the bourbon away, rinsed his glass and put it in the dishwasher, then walked to the door he’d disappeared through, opened it, stood in it and watched him pull his truck in.

I hit the garage door button when he cut the ignition.

He got out with my purse and moved to me.

I didn’t get out of his way when he stopped before he made it to me.

“Forrester Girl. All in for the ones you love, you just can’t help yourself, can you?” he asked.

I shook my head.

His expression changed.

I held my breath.

“Love the fuck out of you, Addie.”

“Love the fuck out of you too, Toby,” I replied, then reached a hand his way. “Now let’s go to bed.”

He came forward.

He took my hand.

And we went to bed.

I had head bowed to my phone and was hoofing it to my car the next evening when it happened.

“Adeline?”

My head came up, it was filled with the fact that I’d had four phone calls, one leaving a voicemail, all from Izzy starting at around eleven that morning, the last one coming in at five.

As I’d worried, the day had been insane. One of the temp cashiers didn’t show so we were a lane down and it didn’t slow all day.

I was exhausted. Toby slept fitfully, and because he did, I did the same.

I’d managed to get a twenty-minute break for lunch, and saw Izzy’s calls and got her message of, “Addie, as soon as you can, call me.”

I’d phoned her, but she didn’t pick up. I left my own message, but she didn’t call back before Michael was begging me to get back to my register, bribing me to take a short lunch and no breaks, and doing this with a one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar bonus.

I had to leave my phone in my locker.

Though I’d done that only after calling Toby, and him not picking up, so I left him a voicemail too, and a text, telling him he was on my mind and I hoped he was okay.

Toby had not called or texted back.

I’d only had a smidge of time with Toby that morning seeing as he was taking a shower and I was making spinach filling.

Though, in accordance with his wish not to let Sierra mess with our plans, he’d reminded me to call Perry and he stuck close when I did that.

It took approximately thirty seconds, considering Perry’s cell was no longer in service.

This kind of worried me, since he didn’t have an address the last I’d known of him, considering the fact I was no longer paying his rent, and now I had no number to contact him, and he was a dick, but he still was my son’s father.

But I had other, more pressing things on my mind.

I’d deal with that later.

Toby had kissed me quickly before he took off to meet Johnny and I’d wished him good luck.

His mind was somewhere else, and that was understandable.

Seeing as his mind was on the woman that was right then standing, blocking my driver’s side door, calling my name.

“I have fifteen people at my house right now, Sierra, I don’t have time for this,” I told her.

She completely ignored me.

“I need to speak with you. I need you to convince Tobias and Johnathan to talk to me,” she pleaded.

I stopped, phone in hand, two feet from her, and glared at her. “It’s Christmas Eve. I’ve been working all day. I’ve had people at my house for an hour eating hors d’oeuvres. If I’m lucky, they’ll stay another hour before we’re off for dinner. I need to get home, shower, slap on makeup, change, be with my kid, my man and my family. In other words, again, I don’t have time for this. Please move.”

“I didn’t have a happy home. I didn’t have good parents,” she said hurriedly, again totally freaking ignoring me. “And not your normal, run-of-the-mill, they-don’t-get-me bad parents. It was awful at home. Terrible.”

In the lights in the parking lot of Matlock Mart, I could see confirmed what I suspected last night.

She was a beauty.

An enduring beauty.

She probably was seriously something in her heyday.

But even now she was spectacular.

Gallingly, this reminded me of my mother.

Daphne had died in her forties. She’d gotten nowhere near this woman’s age.

But she passed looking fifteen years younger.

Of course, that was, she looked that way before the cancer ate her away. She just looked fifteen years younger than another woman in her forties would look after being ravaged by that dread disease.

“Sierra—” I snapped.

“I didn’t know how to be a wife,” she went on fast, folding her hands over her breastbone beseechingly and leaning slightly toward me. “I didn’t know how to be a mother. No. I especially didn’t know how to be a mother. I was terrified I’d hurt them. I was terrified I’d ruin them like my parents ruined me.”

“Are you listening to me at all?” I bit out.

“I left for their own good,” she said desperately. “I left so Lance could find someone better than me to raise my own boys. I need them to understand that. Now that they’re grown, whole, good men with good women in their lives and bright futures, I need them to understand.”

With that, I lost it.

“Okay, even if I gave a shit what you had to say, which I don’t, I do not have time to listen to it right now. For God’s sake, are you so self-absorbed you can’t see I just got off shift, it’s Christmas Eve, I’ve got a baby, a man, and I told you I have people at my home right now? Not to mention you showed out of the blue and Shanghaied my guy last night, and I’ve been working all day so I haven’t been able to take his pulse. So my now is not about you. It has nothing to do with you except it being slightly about the mess you’ve made. So get out of my goddamned way.”

“Can you imagine, for his own good, missing your own boy growing up? Becoming a man?” she asked.

“I can imagine slapping you across the face,” I bit out.

She blinked and leaned back.

“This does not surprise me in the least,” I hissed. “You’re pathologically self-absorbed. You do not give a shit you pulled what you pulled with Toby last night. You do not give a shit it’s Christmas Eve and I haven’t seen my kid in over twenty-four hours and I wanna see him, give him a snuggle, put work behind me and enjoy my holiday. All you care about is you. So no, Sierra. I will not convince my man and his brother to sit down and listen to you. And I’ll tell you something else, if you get anywhere near either of them, I will hurt you. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but how I do it, I’ll make it last. Now get away from my fucking car!”

I ended on a shriek.

She moved away from my car.

I got in it, started it up, checked my mirrors, looked behind me and peeled the fuck out.

I did not process the fact that in peeling out, I noticed we’d had an audience.

I just headed home.

When I got on the road, I called Toby.

He did not answer.

This was not a surprise. He was playing host to fourteen people at my house while I drove.

I still chanted, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I disconnected with him and tried Izzy.

She answered, thank God.

“Addie?”

“Yeah, honey, I’m on my way to the acres right now. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Is everything okay?”

“Drive safe.” She hesitated then finished, “But drive fast.”

What?

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Tell you when you get here. Hurry, doll.”

“Is it bad?”

“Yes, Addie. It’s bad.”

Shit.

“Did Sierra get to Johnny? Margot?”

“Just come home.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

That goddamned woman.

“Be there soon, Iz.”

“Okay, baby. Love you. Love you a lot.”

Oh God.

“Love you too.”

We disconnected, and I drove safe but as fast as I could go.

I did not think it boded well that when I turned into the acres, I saw Toby’s truck, Johnny’s truck, but Dave’s truck nor Margot’s car, nor any other vehicles were in the drive.

The Christmas lights were lit, glowing merrily, and the tree in the window twinkled gaily (though I’d noted well before that Margot was right, it needed to go a little to the left).

But the dining room light at the front was not on, and with a ton of people in the house, that space would be needed. I could see the kitchen lights at the back on, coming from the side windows.

Nothing upstairs.

Other than that, just the family room.

I parked, cut the ignition, grabbed my bag and hauled ass.

When I hit the foyer, Izzy was coming out of the family room.

I heard no happy party noises of people eating, drinking and bustling in the joyful holiday.

I didn’t even hear any Christmas music, and Toby was supposed to be on that.

I just saw Izzy’s face.

And I stopped dead.

“Where’s Brooks?” I asked.

She was coming my way, but she tipped her head to the side toward the family room.

“In with the men. He’s fine, Addie. Perfectly fine.”

She was talking quiet.

“Where is everyone?” I queried.

She stopped in front of me, reached out and grabbed both my hands.

It was then I saw the tears shimmering in her eyes.

OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod.

My fingers spasmed around hers.

“Talk to me,” I begged in a whisper.

“Margot has cancer,” she whispered back.

OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod.

“Toby wanted to tell you, but he’s . . . he’s . . .” She shook her head. “They’ve both taken it really hard.”

Why all their sons were here for Christmas.

Why Dave was in a terrible mood.

Why we needed to have everything sorted for Izzy’s wedding way before it actually needed to be sorted.

“They . . . because of Mom, I talked them into letting me tell you,” she said.

I stood still, holding her hands, staring at her face.

“She wasn’t going to tell them until after the holiday,” Izzy continued. “But she told Lance and Dave Junior last night. They were . . . Johnny told me they were destroyed,” she shared. “Couldn’t hide it. It came out.”

They were destroyed.

Cancer could be beat.

Except some of it.

That my sister and I knew all too well.

And her sons were destroyed.

OhGodohGodohGod.

I took one hand from hers and slid it along her cheek, getting close.

“How are you?” I whispered.

A tear fell from her eye.

She didn’t have to answer.

But she said, “Devastated.”

I slid my hand back into her hair and pulled her forehead to mine.

We stood there, my hand in her hair, our hands clutching each other’s, stared into each other’s eyes and breathed deep.

Then abruptly, I let her go, ran down the hall and into the family room.

I skidded to a halt when I got there.

Johnny was ass to the edge of the seat in the armchair, turned toward Toby.

Toby was in the couch, his back to me.

“Baby,” I called.

Toby twisted. Both men looked to me and both men rose.

Toby was holding Brooks.

Brooks was quiet, and I could tell, fretting.

He felt the vibe.

I felt it too.

But I saw it in Toby’s face.

OhGodohGodohGod.

Oh my fucking God.

“Please come here,” he said quietly.

As fast as I could, I went there.

His arm came around me, my arms went around him, and we crushed Brooks between us.

Brooks patted both of us where he could reach and started fretting more.

“Are you okay?” Toby asked.

“Are you okay?” I asked back.

“Not by a long fucking shot.”

“Oh, honey,” I breathed out.

“Mama,” Brooklyn said.

I took my boy from Toby, snuffled his neck, breathing him in, holding him close.

Toby wrapped his other arm around me.

“Safari dinner’s off,” he said.

I pulled my face out of Brooks’s neck and looked up at him.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Iz and Johnny are spending the night.”

Loved ones close.

Their first Christmas together, my sister and her man couldn’t wake up in their own place, with their own tree, make love, exchange intimate presents and then come over, like I suspected they’d planned to do.

That sucked.

But loved ones close in times like these.

Johnny cleared his throat and we broke apart.

Izzy was right there, handing me a glass of wine.

“We made the spinach puffs anyway,” she said. “I’ll put them in in a bit.”

I nodded.

Looked to Johnny.

He knew what I wanted because he gave it to me without me asking.

“It isn’t good, darlin’,” he said gently. “She’s been doin’ chemo now for weeks. It isn’t working. She starts radiation after Christmas. It’s the kind that’s so intense, she can never have radiation again. They still don’t have good thoughts.”

I wanted to . . .

I wanted to . . .

I wanted to have my mother’s iron will and stand strong.

But I couldn’t.

I folded.

Setting my wine down on the coffee table with a rattle, ass to the couch, gripping my baby boy to me.

He started squirming, making noises like he was going to start crying, and I found him gently tugged away by Johnny, but I was tugged into arms that belonged to Toby.

I turned into them.

“I should be . . . should be comforting you,” I said.

“You are, lovin’ her this much.”

I pulled away and lifted my hands to his face, stroking them back, again and again, like I was shoving his hair away when a thick hank had fallen to one side, probably from him running his fingers through it, but the rest of it was still holding.

God, he was so handsome.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

I stared into his eyes.

And in pain.

“Go up. Shower if you want. Change. We’ll get some food. Put some music on. Maybe watch a movie or something. Margot wants us over there for dinner tomorrow. So pretty much all plans have changed,” Tobe shared with me.

I nodded.

He brushed his mouth to mine.

I pulled my shit together.

I got up.

I went to Johnny and gave him a big hug.

He hugged me big back.

I went to Iz, who now had Brooks, holding her beloved nephew snug against her.

I kissed my baby boy’s head, my sister’s cheek.

Then I grabbed my wineglass, saw my dog for the first time and called him to me.

He came up, snuffling the hand I held to him.

I let him do that before I scratched his ears and whispered, “Come up and keep me company, boy. Yeah?”

He licked my hand.

And of course, followed me out of the room.

At that point, I wondered where my purse was.

And when I did, I was desperate to find it.

I looked right after I left the family room and saw I’d dropped it unnoticed on the floor by the door.

Dapper Dan and I retrieved it.

We walked upstairs to my room.

I closed us in.

I set my wineglass on the nightstand, and still wearing my coat and grocery store smock, I sat on the side of my bed, dug out my phone, and my dog sat beside me, leaning against my leg.

I rubbed his neck and called Margot.

She answered.

“Adeline, my beautiful girl—”

I cut her off and whispered fiercely, “I love you. And once I wrap my head around what’s happening to you, I’m going to take care of your boy. He’ll be able to lean on me. I’ll look after him, Margot. I swear. I’ll take good care of him. You don’t have to worry. I’ve got him.”

“All right, Adeline,” she whispered back.

“He hasn’t asked me yet, but he will, and I want to start planning my wedding right now. I want it sorted. I want it to be exactly what you’d want for Toby. Can we work on that after Christmas?”

“Yes, child, absolutely.”

“God had a hand, Margot, you were right. He gave them to you to raise for us and He gave us to Mom to raise for them. And He gave you to us so we could have you after she was gone.”

She said nothing but I heard her breath hitch.

“Let you go. Love you and try to enjoy tonight. See you tomorrow.”

Her voice was husky when she replied, “Yes. Tomorrow, Adeline. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Margot.”

I let her go immediately because she’d want it that way.

And I really wanted to dissolve into tears.

But this was not about me.

This was about Margot. Dave. Toby. Johnny.

So I got off my ass, pulled off that fucking smock and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Johnny

“Addie, what?”

Feeling Izzy stir against him, hearing her, Johnny opened his eyes.

“Get Johnny up, I’m getting Toby. Come out back,” Addie whispered.

He saw her shadow by the side of the bed.

That was all Addie said before she moved to the door.

His woman turned to him. “You awake?”

“Yeah, what time is it?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Come on. Get up. Put on a sweater and socks. I think we probably need to be warm.”

“Baby—”

“Just, please.”

Johnny did as she asked, rolling over her to do it so he could pull her out of bed with him.

They were in the guest room. The bed that Iz left was still in there. That night, Brooks was in a portable crib with Toby and Addie. With Brooklyn’s furniture in there as well, it was a tight squeeze.

He maneuvered around the furniture. Put on a sweater. Some thick socks Iz had packed for him to wear Christmas morning since Addie kept her furnace low.

She took his hand and he walked with her to the linen closet in the hall where she grabbed a blanket.

He took the blanket from her, and holding hands they moved downstairs, through the hall, the kitchen, the back porch, but he tugged on her hand when they got outside to stop her.

All was dark.

Except two blankets were laid on the snow side by side over a tarp, all of this surrounded by glowing candles.

Toby was standing in the middle of one, dressed just like Johnny, also holding a blanket over his arm, scrubbing his hand over the top of his head.

“We did this,” Izzy whispered. “With Mom. Before it got too bad. We did this all the time.”

He knew what they did.

They stared at the stars.

And tried to find peace.

He guided his woman toward the blankets.

Halfway there, the porch door banged behind them.

Johnny turned and saw Addie coming toward them wearing one of Toby’s hoodies over a nightgown, green Wellingtons on her feet.

Like what Izzy was wearing, except Johnny’s contribution was a sweatshirt and she didn’t have wellies.

Addie was carrying two bottles in her hand.

One was bourbon.

One was tequila.

“We bought into shit like this, we lassoed two Forrester Girls,” Tobe muttered when Johnny and Izzy made the blankets.

There were worse things.

Like one mother showing out of the blue to fuck with them for her own selfish reasons.

And their real mother dying of cancer.

Johnny shot his brother a grin.

It was fake.

Toby grinned back.

It was fake too.

After he got that, Johnny didn’t hesitate.

When he claimed the blanket Toby wasn’t on, he pulled Iz down, arranged her at his side, then threw the blanket over them, tucked it around as best he could, and fell to his back.

Iz snuggled into his body, her head on his chest, neck twisted so she could look at the sky.

Johnny turned his head and saw Toby not far away, Addie on his other side, arranged the same way.

Tobe felt his gaze and returned it.

His smile was slight.

But this one was real.

“Who wants booze?” Addie called.

“Me,” Izzy said.

Tobe handed the tequila to Johnny who gave it to Iz, who lifted up long enough to take a swig.

Then they handed it back for Addie to do the same thing.

The men sucked back some bourbon then set the bottles in the cold snow.

Holding his Iz close, Johnny looked up into the stars.

And he got it.

It wasn’t about being reminded what a small part of the universe you were, a speck, not even dust, a cell of nothing that exists and then fades away.

It was about being reminded about the magnificence of the universe, and how you were an integral part of it, and you should not waste a moment, you should find time to savor its beauty while you had your time amongst its majesty.

“Merry Christmas, everybody,” Eliza called.

“Merry, Christmas, Iz, Johnny,” Adeline called back.

Johnny didn’t say it to everybody.

He pulled his girl close and murmured, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

He heard his brother say quietly, “Merry Christmas, honey.”

Johnny took in a big breath, feeling Iz go up with it, then come down when he let it out.

From what Dave said, the prognosis was far from good.

Johnny had lost his grandparents, his father, and learned that day that this shit did not get easier.

He felt cut up inside.

Raw.

And he knew for Toby, who was Margot’s favorite, maybe even of her own boys, it was worse.

But they’d be okay.

Because right then, the message was clear.

The Forrester Girls had this.

Moonlight and motor oil, they could get through anything.

So he laid beneath the stars under a blanket in the warmth made of him and his future wife and thought, at least right then, it was a Merry Christmas.