Hitched For the Holidays
A Jane & Lisbon Story
By Brown Eyes Parker
Rated: T
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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Chapter 1 Granting Last Wishes
The atmosphere was quiet. It smelled like antiseptic and cafeteria food, and somewhere down the hallway one of the nursing home residents was singing an old standard. It was almost like any other visit. Except it wasn't. Patrick Jane was on the verge of losing his grandmother. The nurses had called him and his family to come and say goodbye.
But like always, he was the only one available to come and see her. He stood outside her room, just watching her sleep until she opened her eyes and looked right at him/.
"Don't just stand there boy! Come in and see me!" She said in the same commanding tone she had always used with him.
After another second, he went in and took the seat beside her. "Grandmother," he said thickly, taking her hand and stroking it.
"Who died?" She joked, laughing slightly at his startled look. "Come now Patrick, don't look so glum! I'm doing fine. I should be up tomorrow and dancing a jig, those old quacks have no idea what they're talking about."
Patrick swallowed hard and nodded. "I know."
"But just in case they're right and I don't have long to live. . . I want you to do me a favor."
"You know I'd do anything for you," Patrick answered hoarsely. "Just name it and I'll do it for you as soon and as quickly as I can."
"I want to meet your fiancée. So I can give her my engagement ring," she said. "Please bring her to me, Patrick. Please. . ."
"But grandmother. . ." Patrick trailed off, hesitating slightly. "Grandmother, do you remember? Lorelei broke up with me because her old boyfriend came back. . ."
Cecelia Jane had slipped back into slumber though, so she didn't hear his last comment.
Patrick was in turmoil, he didn't want to deny his grandmother her last dying wish, but at the same time he didn't want to lie to her. He stood up, buttoned his jacket and then hurried out of the nursing home and to his car. He needed to think, needed to get somewhere where his judgment wouldn't be clouded. He drove down the street and to the diner where he usually got his dinner before seeing his grandmother.
He parked his car and got out, hoping if he had a few minutes to himself he would know what to do.
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Teresa Lisbon looked at the pile of bills in front of her and massaged her temples. Christmas was right around the corner and she wasn't making enough to pay her bills and purchase a couple of gifts for her brothers.
The bell above the diner door rang and she quickly stacked up her bills and hid them under the counter.
"We're closing in twenty minutes," she said. "All we have is one slice of pumpkin cheesecake left."
He sat down. "Thanks. I'll take it."
She served him the last piece of cheesecake and he picked up his fork. He cut into but didn't eat it. Teresa looked at him but decided not to pay attention. She turned up the radio and started to clean up the diner as she hummed along with Winter Wonderland. She was so busy; she didn't notice that he was looking at her intently.
"You're a girl," he said.
She looked up at him and frowned. "Yes. . . good observation, genius."
"How would you like to earn some extra cash?" He asked.
"No thank you," Teresa answered shortly, suddenly on her guard. "I am not interested!"
His eyes widened. "I don't mean like that! I just need a girl to pose as my fiancée! I'll pay you one thousand dollars if you'll come to the nursing home with me."
Teresa hesitated, one thousand dollars was a lot of money. But the young man sitting across from her was a stranger, she didn't know if she could trust him not to kill her or even pay her the promised amount of money.
"I can give it to you upfront and you don't have to drive with me to the nursing home," he said like he was reading her thoughts. "Please just help me. . . it's her dying wish to meet my fiancée. And I don't have one. . . not anymore."
"Why not tell her that you don't have a fiancée?"
"I tried that. It didn't work."
"Okay," Teresa finally agreed. "I'll do it."
"Tonight. The doctors don't know how long she has to live."
"Okay," Teresa said even though she was still wearing her uniform and she smelled like burgers and bacon grease. "My name's Teresa."
"Nice to meet you Teresa. My name is Patrick," he said, giving her a smile that would make any woman's knees shake.
"Come on," Teresa said. "We can get out of here; I highly doubt anybody will be coming in now. It's getting late."
"Okay," Patrick replied.
"Just give me a minute to get my coat and to fix my hair," Teresa requested as she scraped the cheesecake into the trash.
Patrick glanced at his wristwatch and nodded. "Sure."
"Never mind," Teresa told him. "I'm sure she won't be looking at my hair."
Patrick looked relieved. "Thank you."
She quickly locked the diner up and followed him into the cold November evening.
"My car is around the back," Teresa said.
"I'll wait," Patrick replied, unlocking his own vehicle and sliding in.
Teresa pulled her red beret over her dark hair and hurried to the back of the restaurant, suddenly sensing Patrick's urgency in introducing her to his grandmother. She'd been where he was twice and unlike him, she hadn't been able to grant either of them their final wishes. They had both been taken from her in an instant. This thought made her more confident in her choice to assist in placating his grandmother in giving her what she wanted.
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"Here to see your grandmother again?" A nurse asked as they passed the nurses station.
"Yeah. She wanted to meet my fiancée and she just got off work."
The nurse raised her eyebrows. "You're getting married Patrick?"
"Yeah, yeah. . . I'm getting married. Faye, this is Teresa. Teresa this is my favorite nurse, Faye."
"Stop buttering me up and go see Cecelia!" Fay said, swatting at him. "It was nice meeting you Teresa."
"You too Faye," Teresa replied as Patrick secured her hand and led her down the hallway.
"You're back. Did you bring her?"
"Yes" Patrick answered. "I brought her. Grandmother, this is Teresa. Teresa, this is my grandmother, Cecilia."
"Hello Mrs. Jane," Teresa said, sitting on the edge of her bed and taking her hands.
"Teresa," Cecilia answered. "She has working hands, Patrick."
"Yes. . ."
"Get the box out from under my bed," Cecelia interjected. "I am going to get to know my new granddaughter. Tell me about yourself Teresa. Do you have any family here?"
"Yes," Teresa answered, not elaborating on her answer.
"You're pretty," Cecelia said. "But I'm sure you get that a lot. Have you had a lot of boyfriends?"
"No. . ." Teresa replied. "Just one. . . but we both wanted different things from life, so we ended things."
Cecelia didn't get a chance to interrogate her further; Patrick had gotten to his feet with a box in his hand. She smiled at her grandson and gestured for her to give the ring to Teresa.
Patrick got down on his knee again and opened the box, going through the motions for his grandmother's sake. Teresa wanted to help him up, she didn't know these people. She didn't think she would be able to force a yes past her lips. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, yes slipped out like she had known him for years and had been expecting a proposal for ages.
Cecelia smiled in contentment and closed her eyes as Patrick slid the ring on Teresa's finger.
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They were sitting on a bench near the nursing home when she took the ring off and handed it back to him. He smiled at her gratefully and then put it back into the box.
"It might be a few days before I can cash the check you gave me," Teresa said, pulling her gloves on. "I have to work almost all day tomorrow and then the next day is Thanksgiving."
"Don't worry about that. I'm good for the cash," Patrick assured her.
"Trust fund kid?" Teresa asked teasingly.
"Yes," Patrick answered. "And now I am a junior partner at my father's law firm."
"Oh. . . well, good for you. I need to go now; I should have been home an hour ago."
"Thank you for tonight!" Patrick said, getting up and following her. "I don't know any girls who'd do something like that. . ."
"Well, I just can't deny anybody their dying wish," Teresa told him, smiling. "It was a pleasure meeting you Patrick."
"You too," Patrick answered, watching her as she walked back to her car.
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The next day, Teresa was serving turkey club sandwiches and Cokes when the young man from the night before came rushing into the diner.
"You have to come with me!" Patrick said. "You have to!"
Teresa frowned and set down the order she was carrying. "What do you mean that I have to come with you?"
"My grandmother. . . she's alive!"
"Well, I'm very happy for you," Teresa said, going behind the counter and getting a pitcher of sweet tea.
"She's alive and she's asking to see you! My fiancée, remember?"
"Is this guy bothering you?" Her co-waitress, Erica Flynn asked.
"Its fine," Teresa assured her as she refilled somebody's drink and then went back to the counter, Patrick at her heels. "My break's in five minutes. Can you wait five more minutes?"
"I'll go and get my car," he replied.
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"We're not going straight to my grandmother's," Patrick told her. "I thought we'd get some lunch and get to know each other a little bit."
"It better be McDonald's then," Teresa said, "I am not fit to be seen anywhere else!"
"You're fine!" Patrick reassured her. "Besides, we're stopping at my dad and mom's house for lunch. No one's going to see us except for the maid."
Teresa frowned slightly. "You're serious?"
"Very," Patrick answered. "We have a chauffeur, two maids and a cook. Mom doesn't have time for tedious things like cooking and housework."
"So, you're really wealthy then?" Teresa asked.
"Yes," Patrick said. "I thought you knew that last night. Is it going to be a problem?"
"No. . . not for me," Teresa lied. "It's just that. . . well; your family won't think I'm a gold digger or anything. Will they? I mean when they find out that I'm a waitress. . . well, I just don't want them to say anything negative about either of us."
Patrick laughed. "Well, you're not going to be a waitress when you meet them. And besides, they're going to love you. Especially when they find out you're the reason we have another holiday with Grandmother."
Teresa sighed, wondering what he had meant by she wasn't going to be a waitress. She let it slide for the time being and looked out the window. "I just hope you're right."
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"So, tell me about yourself," Patrick said as they ate grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup.
"Well, I was born to a mom and a dad, just like everybody is. We lived in a small apartment until my mother got pregnant with my brother Stanly. We moved into a bigger apartment until mom had two more kids, Tommy and Jimmy. Dad bought a house after that and then one day, she died and my father got depressed. He did and said things he didn't mean until he drank himself into an early grave and I inherited three boys and a house that I can barely keep up with.
"I work at the diner a lot and try to take night classes. I want to solve crimes one day, if I can ever get out of Chicago. I think I'm going to be stuck here forever though, because I barely have enough money to pay the bills. Forget Christmas."
"Is that why you said yes to me?" Patrick asked. "Because you needed the money?"
"No. . . I mean, not really. I said yes because I wanted to grant your grandmother her dying wish. My dad and mom never got theirs, you know? What about you Patrick? What's your story? It has to be better than mine."
"I was born to a mom and a dad. . . just like everybody else is. We've lived here for as long as I can remember, me and my grandmother did anyways. My father was always on business and my mother didn't want to be a mom unless I achieved something. Then she was always there, sitting in the front row. I graduated from high school early and I went off to college and then law school. When I graduated from law school, I had a place in my father's law firm. A pre-planned future, complete with an absent-wife and a mansion of my own. Except my fiancée left me for somebody with a few more figures in his paycheck and I couldn't find a mansion that was small enough for just me. So you see? We're not so different after all, except for our addresses and our bank balances."
"No, I guess not," Teresa agreed. "How old are you Patrick?"
"I'll be twenty-five on my next birthday. What about you?"
"I'm going to be twenty-three. I'm eleven-years-older than Jimmy, the youngest. He was only one when our mother died. I'm the only real mom that he knows."
"I'm sure you're a great mother! I mean, you're very kind. Most girls wouldn't have agreed to help me especially after only just meeting me."
Soon afterwards, the conversation strayed to other things. To their favorite books and movies and old sitcoms and their favorite songs. They were surprised to find an hour had passed and that Teresa needed to get back to work.
"We need to establish some rules," Teresa told him as they drove back to the diner. "Like no sex. Especially since you're paying me."
"Understood!" Patrick said. "Anything else?"
"Don't get attached to my brothers. I don't need them devastated when you aren't there anymore. And don't fall in love with me, because if you do it would never work out between us. It would only end badly."
"Right!" Patrick agreed. "Strictly business then."
"Good!"
"Now for my rules. You need to come to every single one of my Christmas events. Work parties, family get togethers, you'll be my date. And you have to let me supply you with extra money for clothes and shoes. I'm pretty sure that you never treat yourself and my mom has high-standards for everyone. You have to let the people in your life think we're really together. And you can't fall in love with me. Fair is fair, Teresa."
Teresa smirked. "Like I'd fall in love with you. Anything else?"
"I think I'll make a hair appointment for you this afternoon. When was the last time you had a really good haircut?"
"June, I think. I was going to get it cut and then my brother needed stitches, after that there never seemed to be extra cash." Teresa touched her ponytail self-consciously. "Why? Is there something wrong with my hair?"
"I don't know," Patrick answered. "But my mother would and I don't want to give her a chance to critize you because she will. . . no matter how perfect you are."
"Oh. . ." Teresa trailed off, suddenly realizing that she didn't even know what she was getting herself into.
He pulled up in front of the diner and smiled at her. "I'll be here around to pick you up around five. Okay?"
"Okay. I'll see you later Patrick."
"Have a good afternoon," Patrick replied.
TBC. . .
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Author's Note:
Is everybody here? I'm so glad you all are. Just a quick note, this story will go over the span of Thanksgiving to New Year's Eve. My first holiday story to ever do so! I am in the middle of working on multiple one-shots, if you follow me than you'll probably be getting alerts for those starting in December. Hopefully something will tickle your fancy. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you want to tell me what you thought then click on the box below!
Until Next Time!
Love,
Holly, 11/14/2014_