The rest of the weekend flew by in a flurry of wrapping paper and Christmas cookies. Mom definitely held off on the slave labor until Jamie and I were back in town. I'm fairly certain there are still bits of flour embedded in my hair, and I've got the beginnings of carpal tunnel from wrapping gifts. If I never see another piece of ribbon or jar of sprinkles again I can die a happy girl.
When Tuesday rolled around and Dean picked me and Jared up for the movie, I was already going through major withdrawal. We hadn't been together, alone, since that night in my bedroom. To say that encounter was less than satisfying would be a serious understatement. You wouldn't think that someone who went without something for twenty-one years would be so completely addicted to it in such a short time, but I'm here to tell ya, it happens. Jared helped keep our minds out of the gutter by recapping the entire Hunger Games series before the movie started, and getting into a debate with Dean about what was better: Jennifer Lawrence's boobs or her butt. It was a riveting conversation, believe me. I'm pretty sure boobs won.
Everything ended very innocently with Dean walking us to the door and giving me a chaste kiss goodnight. While I wish there could've been more, I appreciate Dean making a real effort to get to know my little brother. Jared can't stop talking about him; Dean and his car, the upcoming bro-bonding with Dean, Danny, and Jamie at the Eagles game after Christmas, he's even been trying to talk Mom into letting him come visit for spring break—which he never did when it was just me and Jamie. They've struck up quite the bromance.
Now, it's the morning of Christmas Eve and I'm scrambling to get my apple pie out of the oven to cool so that I can finish getting ready for Dean's family's dinner. Burning the tips of my fingers, I slide the dish onto a cooling rack and toss the oven mitts on the counter so that I can run back upstairs to change.
I've picked out, tried on, and rejected four different outfits. Nothing seems right and I'm starting to sweat off my makeup as I'm bent over in the closet digging through piles of clothes, sifting through hanger after hanger.
"Damn it!" I yell when I find the perfect dress only to discover there's a hole in the armpit.
"Sweetie, what the heck are you doing in there?" I hear Mom say behind me.
Resigned that there is no way I can go to this dinner, I curl up in a pile of sweaters in the corner of the closet. "I'm not going. Can you call Dean and tell him I'm sick?"
Like only my mother would, she crawls into the closet and sits next to me. I lean my head on her shoulder and she rests her head on top of mine. "Why would I do that? You look perfectly healthy to me, if not a little bit crazy sitting here in a mountain of wool. You've already met Dean's mom. What are you so worried about?"
"I know I met her, but that was before…well, before. I want to impress her and I really want her to like me. You and Jared love Dean, and Dad hasn't killed him yet which is astounding. I just want to fit in as well with his family as he does with ours." I suck in a deep breath and blow it out through puffed up cheeks.
"Alright, get up." She hoists herself to her feet and holds her hands out for mine. When I just stare up at her with an obstinate look on my face, she reaches down and grabs my hands, pulling me reluctantly to my feet. "Let me see what we have to work with in here." I step back to allow her room to work her magic. Clothes are considered and rejected until she comes up clutching a ball of satin and lace. Holding the dress up against her own body she asks, "What about this one?"
It's the same dress I have already decided would be perfect. Knee-length apple red satin, covered in an intricate red lace overlay. The arms are sheer lace from shoulder to wrist and a skinny, dark red belt with a gold buckle wraps around the midsection just a few inches above the waist.
"That dress would be absolutely perfect, except for the hole under the right arm." I pick up the material and show her the quarter-size hole.
"Oh, please. This little thing? Give me ten minutes. Fix your hair and freshen up your lipstick and by the time you're done I'll have this all ready for you." She tosses the dress over her shoulder and heads for the door.
"Seriously mom? You are the best!"
"You're just now realizing this?" She winks at me and leaves me to get ready on my own.
I curl a few chunks of hair that lost their shape when I was bulldozing through the closet and spray a healthy coating of hairspray to keep everything in place. I choose red lipstick to match the color of my dress and complement my simple, dark eye makeup. I fish out my black wedge ankle boots under the pile of fabric in the closet and am tying them up when Mom returns with my freshly sewn dress. "Good as new. Put it on and let me have a look. Oh, let me get the earrings from your dad, they'll go flawlessly with your outfit."
While she rummages in my jewelry box, I remove my robe and quickly tug the dress over my head, careful of my curls. There's no sign of the old hole. Mom does good work.
She turns to me with the diamond studs in her hands and pauses as her eyes gloss over. She sniffles quietly and clears her throat. "You look beautiful, Jessica. My baby girl…all grown up." A tear spills over onto her cheek and she wipes it away as fast as it fell. "Oh lord, okay here you go. I'm leaving." She tucks the earrings into my palm and kisses me on the forehead.
"Have a good time. Mind your manners. Be careful driving, the roads are a little slick from the flurries earlier."
She tries to rush past me but I snag her by the crook of her arm. "Mom, thank you."
Her hand brushes my cheek lightly and she gives me a tight smile. "You're welcome, sweetie."
"You have arrived at your destination," the disembodied voice alerts me from my GPS.
"You're telling me…," I mutter to myself, looking up at the three story stone structure in front of me.
I put the car in park and sit back to take in my surroundings. A light snow began falling on the drive over, and a thin coat covers the paved driveway. There's enough space around me for at least five more cars, but the family must park in a garage because mine is the only vehicle in sight. I step out with the pie carrier in my hands, my small black clutch resting on top. The property goes on for what looks like a mile, but I can't see beyond my immediate surroundings since it is fully dark now. From what I am able to see, our house could fit in one quarter of this one, easily. I shake my head, silently reprimanding myself for making comparisons. I carefully make my way to the front door, trying not to slip and really make an ass of myself. Squaring my shoulders and inhaling deeply, I free one hand to ring the doorbell.
Moments later, the large wooden door swings open and I'm face to face with Danny. "Sweet! You brought dessert!" He takes the pie from my hands and gestures with his head for me to come in. I walk into the enormous foyer and try not to look like a deer caught in headlights as I take it all in. I'm surprised that in a place this large they don't have a housekeeper for things like answering doors and welcoming guests.
"Here, let me take your coat," Danny says, placing the pie on a round entryway table. "Gertie, our housekeeper, is off until the new year." He explains as he tucks my coat into a closet off to the side. "She'll have my head if I mess up her closet. Or anything else around here. She's tough, but we love her."
I realize that I haven't spoken since I walked in and struggle to come up with something. Danny must sense my unease because he throws his arm around me, picking up the pie in his free hand, and directs me into another room. "Don't worry, it's just the fam. We don't bite. Well, actually I don't know what you and Dean are into, but the rest of us are pretty tame," he jokes.
"Very funny," I roll my eyes playfully at him. "Here, I'll take it," I hold my hands out for the pie. "It'll give me something to do with my hands."
He hands it over and I follow him through a large, formal sitting room, past the dining room where a long oak table is set for five, and into the kitchen. It is a chef's dream. There's a huge center island with seating for six and a sink next to what looks like a built in butcher's block. The six burner stove top takes up half of the far wall and counter area, next to two raised ovens, one on top of the other. The entire room is done in whites and grays to compliment the light oak counters and floors. The low-hanging track lighting over the island casts the room in a warm glow. I unglue my eyes from the decor long enough to notice Danny has made his exit and Dean's mom is entering from what I'm assuming is a walk-in pantry.
"Oh, Jessie! I'm so glad you're here, dear. Maybe now Dean will tear himself away from that god forsaken pool table with Nick. They've been at it for almost two hours. I think they're up to best four out of seven at this point." She crosses the room to me and takes the pie from my hands, placing it on the island and returning her attention to me to give me what is quite possibly the warmest embrace I've ever received from anyone not in my own family. "Merry Christmas. You look stunning. Absolutely stunning. Oh and look at this pie!" She lifts the lid from the container and leans forward to inhale deeply. "You've certainly outdone yourself here, Jessie. I just hope all of your hard work is appreciated when my boys are inhaling every last crumb."
Again, I find myself standing in a stunned silence, not quite sure what to say so that I don't sound like a moron. I go with the safest bet. "I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you again for having me over, Ms. Annenburg."
"Let's get that nipped in the bud right now. You'll call me Kathy, dear. None of this 'Ms. Annenburg' nonsense. Dean speaks so highly of you, and so frequently, you're practically part of the family. So you might as well be comfortable."
My stomach flip flops at her words and I clear my throat, not sure what to say to that.
"Oh, can I get you a drink, dear? Wine? Water? A soft drink, perhaps?"
"Um, water is fine. It's started to snow again and I'm driving later." I explain, wringing my hands together behind my back.
"Of course, of course." She fills a tall crystal glass with ice and water from the dispenser on the refrigerator door. "Here you go. So tell me, how has your break been so far?"
I swallow a large gulp of water to wet my parched throat. "Busy," I laugh nervously. "I feel like I've been wrapping and shopping and baking since we touched down last week. But I enjoy it. My mom and I make up for lost time over cookie batter and old Burl Ives records."
"That's sweet. I always wondered what it would have been like to have a daughter to shop and bake and gossip with, but I wouldn't trade my two boys for anything in the world." She speaks of Danny and Dean with such affection, it warms me towards her even more and I begin to relax.
"Well, do you need help with anything? I'm happy to be put to work," I ask.
"Aren't you sweet? Thank you, but I think everything is just about finished in here. we're just waiting on the oven timer. Why don't you go find Dean and have him give you the tour? Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes."
"If you're sure I can't do anything for you in here…" I ask hesitantly.
"I'm positive. Just go on through the side door there. The boys are in their man cave."
I smile at her and follow her direction. Down a short hallway I come to an archway and a short staircase leading down to what Kathy called the 'man cave'. Dean is there in a gray, almost black, sweater and jeans, leaning over an aged wood pool table with a red felt top, lining up his shot with the eight ball. Across from him a tall, lean man stands with one hand on a pool stick and the other resting on his hip. He's got light brown hair with silver glinting at the temples. His thick, dark framed glasses lend him a scholarly air. This must be Dean's stepdad, Nick. Danny is nowhere to be found and the two men are so intent on their game, I just hang back watching.
Dean takes his shot and Nick curses under his breath just as the eight ball sinks into the corner pocket.
"Yes! That's it, old man. Four games to your three. Pay up." Dean hooks his pool stick into a rack on the wall and turns back to Nick. His gaze sweeps over me in the process and he must finally register the fact that someone else is in the room. His eyes go wide and his mouth hangs slightly open as he stares at me. Nick takes in his expression and turns to figure out what he's staring at. I smile weakly in their direction and step forward.
"I didn't want to interrupt your game. Your mom told me to come on back. Hi, I'm Jessie." I extend my hand to Nick as I introduce myself.
"Well, now that explains a whole heck of a lot. Pleased to meet you Jessie. I'm Nick." He takes my hand and we shake briefly. "Dean's been bragging about you nonstop for months. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."
My cheeks flare with heat and I smile shyly. Dean still hasn't said a word. Nick glances over at him and chuckles to himself. "Well I'm going to check on Kathy, see if she needs any help. Dean, why don't you show Jessie around?"
He makes a quick exit and I'm left standing across the pool table from Dean. I raise an eyebrow and lean on the table with both hands. "You know, you're starting to drool a little," I joke with him.
He closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head. When he reopens them, there is lust burning in their clear blue depths. Before I can question his intentions, he rounds the table and pulls me into him so that our bodies meet just before his lips crash down on mine. Thank God for smudge proof lipstick. I wind my arms around his neck and open for him, allowing his tongue to slip just past my lips to tangle with mine. Seconds turn to minutes and I break away, panting heavily and trying to catch my breath.
Dean rests his hands on my waist and holds me at arms length, his eyes skimming my body from the top of my head to my boots. "My God, you are beautiful."
"Thank you," I reply, eyes on the space between our feet. With the tips of his fingers, he lifts my chin so that I'm looking into his blazing ice-blue eyes. "I mean it."
I smile up at him, flattered by his words. I'm not crazy about compliments, but it's getting harder and harder to be embarrassed by Dean's since they come so often.
"Hey, your mom told me I would be getting the grand tour from you. You don't want to disappoint, right?" My mouth quirks up on one side and I take his hand, tugging him to the archway leading to the hall.
"Oh, I'd never aim to disappoint you. Let's go, princess," he teases. His fingers thread through mine as he leads the way.
"So you're telling me that Dean slept with a decapitated teddy bear until he was twelve?" I sputter into my water glass and attempt not to choke on my laughter. After my tour of the house, which is astounding, let me tell you, we sat down to dinner. Kathy has been entertaining us with stories from Dean and Danny's childhood over the deliciously decadent rack of lamb she prepared for us.
"That's exactly what I'm telling you." She sips her wine and gestures with the glass as she goes on. "He let Danny keep the head after he accidentally tore it off, and they shared Beary Potter for about five years before both halves became so dingy I convinced them to give him a proper burial in the garden."
"He'd have stayed whole if you just let him sleep in my bed to begin with." Danny mumbles over a large bite of lamb.
"Man, you're lucky I was such a good brother and let you keep his head. Grams gave him to me. You were just such a whiny little brat, I wanted you to shut up." Dean replies, jabbing his fork in the air at Danny.
"You two are such dorks," I murmur into my water.
"I couldn't agree more, Jessie," Nick chimes in with a laugh and I smile back at him.
I still can't get over how normal this all has been. No staff waiting on us, a home cooked meal and your run of the mill holiday dinner conversation, reminiscing about this and that. I guess even after my conversation with Dean last week, I still expected things to be a little different with his family. For once, I'm really happy to be wrong about something.
"Well, I'm stuffed. Let's go relax in the family room by the fire, Jessie. I'll show you Dean's baby books and tell you more embarrassing stories. Boys, you know the drill. I cook, you clean. And Jessie made dessert so she's with me. Don't forget to rinse before you load the dish washer!" Kathy shuffles me out of the dining room before the men can protest.
"It's so nice having a brood of men to order around." She loops her arm through mine conspiratorially and we turn into a lovely, homey room with two deep, oversized chairs and a large cushy couch positioned in front of a stunning stone fireplace. To the right stands a twelve foot Christmas tree, fully lit and trimmed with all sorts of ornaments and keepsakes. I wander over to look at each one while Kathy stokes the fire and sifts through leather-bound books until she finds the one she is looking for.
"This one is my favorite. Years two through five. Dean was quite the little troublemaker." She pats the seat beside her on the couch and hands me the book. Before we're able to get through the first page, the doorbell rings. Kathy looks up at the grandfather clock with a puzzled look on her face, obviously unsure of who could be visiting at this hour on Christmas Eve.
"I'll be right back, dear. Just sit tight." She quickly rounds the archway into the foyer to greet her guest. I thumb through the photo album, chuckling to myself at some of the sillier pictures, when I hear a raised male voice.
"You won't get away with this, Kathy. I just want what's mine, then I'll leave." Just then a tall, lanky man enters the room, swaying a bit on his feet. He stops when he sees me and eyes me carefully. I take in his familiar appearance. His dark hair is cut close and slightly longer on top. There's at least two days worth of stubble on his face, and his designer suit is quite disheveled. Aside from the fact that they're bloodshot, there is something striking about his eyes.
"Jeff, please. Don't do this now. Just leave." Kathy pleads calmly from behind the man.
"Who the hell are you?" He addresses me directly. I stand, but I'm so stunned I don't answer immediately. When I realize he's waiting for an answer, I stammer a reply. "Um, I'm Jessie?" It comes out more like a question. "Dean's girlfriend," I continue.
He eyes me, appraising. Finally he barks out a jeering laugh and steps closer. I eye Kathy briefly and a look of alarm passes over her delicate features. Bringing my attention back to this man, I notice that he smells heavily of whiskey and cigarettes. Now that I'm closer, it strikes me all of a sudden why his eyes, a crystal clear blue, look so familiar. They are identical to Dean's.
"Well isn't that just lovely," he holds out his hand and my automatic reflex is to take it. "I'm Jeff Wilkins. Dean's father."
I've gathered as much by now. What I don't understand is why Dean's father, the man who cheated on his wife over five years ago, abandoned his family, and was recently escorted by police from this very residence, is standing here shaking my hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. And why am I letting him?
I pull my hand back and clutch it in my other one. "I don't know if lovely is the right word," I snip at him.
He scoffs at me and eyes me with a sneer. "Mind your tone, girl. Want some free advice? When it comes to this bunch honey, get what you can while you can. You look like a smart girl, bit of an opportunist gleam in your eyes. Don't get roped into some bullshit prenup with my son that leaves you out on your ass with nothing. If you're spreading your legs for my boy, you might as well get a nice payout for your troubles."
Kathy's eyes widen in horror, the only warning I have before I'm pulled to the side by a pair of large hands and a fist plows into Mr. Wilkins' face. Danny's hold on my shoulders loosens when his father crumples to the floor with Dean looming over him. Nick is at Kathy's side, his arm tight around her waist and I see the shame and anger etched on her face.
"You ever so much as look at her again, and I'll kill you. I don't know what the hell you thought you'd accomplish by coming back here, but there's nothing left for you here. You lost your meal ticket when you decided to screw around behind my mother's back years ago. Get up, and get the hell out."
Dean's acid-laced words are met with a vicious glare from his father as he stares up at him through a quickly blackening eye. "This is none of your business, boy. This is between me and your mother. I'll leave when I get what's owed to me."
Before Dean can react, Nick steps forward and hauls Mr. Wilkins to his feet, spinning him around to face him. "Now you listen to me, Jeff. I'm only telling you this once. You've got sixty seconds to get the fuck out of this house, and then I'm calling the police. This time, we'll press charges and what little life you've got left will be ruined. And I'll make sure to have them send an ambulance because I will beat you to a bloody, unrecognizable pulp if you attempt to threaten, intimidate or humiliate my family any further."
Mr. Wilkins opens his mouth to protest, but shuts it quickly when Nick grabs him by the jaw and jerks his head in my direction. "That's right, this is my family now. That includes this young woman. Now apologize to her for spewing your bullshit and get your ass off this property."
Nick doesn't let go and when Mr. Wilkins hesitates he tightens his jawbreaking hold. With a wince, he angrily sucks in air through his nose and manages to utter a few words through gritted teeth. "My apologies. I'm sure you'll be very happy together." Nick shoves him away and he pushes past Kathy with a glare. Before he leaves, he shouts over his shoulder, "Until he gets bored and moves on." The door slams with an earsplitting crack and Dean lurches forward but Danny grabs him by the arm, muttering something under his breath that seems to calm him down. Moments later the screech of tires fills the air.
I stand there completely bewildered by the confrontation, frozen in place. Kathy is the first one to speak, and she directs her words to me.
"Jessie, I can not even begin to apologize for my ex-husband's behavior. Please know that none of what he said means anything. He's just desperate and grasping at straws." She wraps her arms around me and pulls me into a tight embrace. Nick steps up beside her and places a hand on my arm. I glance up at him over her shoulder. "You're Dean's. That means you're part of this family, and we fight for our family."
When I'm released, Danny is the next to embrace me. "Dude, fuck him—sorry mom. He's pathetic. He doesn't even know you and comes in here spouting that shit. I hope you know that's all it was; a bunch of bullshit."
I just nod since my throat, arid and filled with emotion, refuses to allow me to speak. My eyes dart quickly to Dean and his eyes are on me, sorrow marring his usually amiable features. For that alone, I'd love to kick Jeff Wilkins' ass myself.
Nick clears his throat before speaking. "Why don't we go finish up in the kitchen. We'll bring out dessert. I think everyone could use a little sugar and some of that spiked egg nog." Kathy smiles up at him appreciatively and grabs Danny by the arm. "Let's go, you can finish loading the dishwasher."
He begins to protest but is cut off with a look from his mom that clearly states there is no room for argument. As they exit the room, I turn to the fireplace and warm my icy hands.
Dean steps up behind me and places a kiss on the back of my head. "I'm so sorry, baby," he says in a strangled voice.
I whip around and see his eyes bright with unshed tears. Appalled, I step to him and take his face in both my hands. "What do you have to be sorry for? Did you ask him to come here and spew that bullshit at me? Did you stand by and do nothing? No. You and your family stood up and fought for me. You've got no idea what that means to me, Dean. No one, except my dad on occasion, fights for me anymore because they all assume I can fight for myself."
"Jessica, I will fight for you until the day I die." My heart swells to five times its size when he leans in and places the briefest kiss on my forehead. "I love you so much, and it makes me sick that he came here and put those thoughts in your head. The last thing I want is for you to ever doubt us again."
"That's not going to happen. Definitely not over something like this. How is it possible that you're even related to that asshole?" I ask, resting my head on his chest as he wraps his arms around me.
"In DNA only, trust me." He rests his chin on the top of my head.
We stand like this with the fire blazing beside us for a moment, then I realize his family is going to be coming back shortly. I try to pull away but he holds me firmly against him.
"We should help them, you know. I don't want to be rude."
"You want to talk rude? They haven't even gone to kitchen yet. You know they're right in the hall, eavesdropping." His chest bobs with laughter and I can hear hushed whispers followed by the click of heals on marble.
"Wow," I manage between giggles.
The rest of the night passes without incident. We eat pie and sip eggnog, then Kathy passes out her traditional night before Christmas presents. I'm touched when she hands one to me as well. While Dean and Danny roll their eyes, I excitedly rip through the wrapping paper. It's impossible to keep the laughter to myself when I pull out the furry brown reindeer slippers, complete with a red nose that lights up.
"Every year mom buys us some horribly tacky Christmas attire that we get to open on Christmas Eve and have to wear in the morning." Danny explains, holding up his own elf-style slippers with bells on the tips. Dean just sits beside him shaking his head as he examines the snowmen on his pair.
"These are so great! I can't wait to wear them in the morning. Thanks Kathy." I get up to hug her and for the first time she seems to be at a loss for words.
"You're welcome, sweetie," she says as she begins gathering up the scattered wrapping paper, taking it into the kitchen to throw in the trash.
"Now look, you made Mom cry," Danny jokes with me. I bite my lip, concerned.
"She's just emotional. It's been a long night," Nick tries to recover.
"I'll be right back." I stand and hand my slippers to Dean, then search her out in the kitchen.
Kathy's arms are stretched out to the sides, resting on the counter, and her eyes are closed.
"Kathy? Did I…did I say something wrong?" I ask tentatively.
"No, Jessie. Quite the opposite. You're such a sweetheart, even after my bastard ex-husband said those ugly, hateful things to you. I'm just so glad Dean found someone as strong and self-assured as you. A weaker woman would've fled for the hills by now."
I touch her hand with mine. "I love your son, Kathy. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I wouldn't throw that away. Not for anything."
"Now you've gone and done it." She laughs as tears make their way down her cheeks. I pull her into another hug, since it seems to be her thing, and she grips me back so hard I feel like I might bruise.
"I can't wait to meet your mom tomorrow. She must be some woman to have raised you so well."
Tomorrow. That's right. Tomorrow we get to switch places and I introduce Dean's family to the insane Maddox clan. I swallow hard and give her a tight smile. "Oh yeah, tomorrow should be really…interesting."