“I can’t imagine how hard it is to lose a child. And then to be responsible for such a vivacious little girl …” Mom sniffled, taking her hand.
“I thought I’d be able to … but with the tet spells, it’s just —”
“Hey, you’ve got everyone in the hospital ready to help,” I whispered as Ruby sighed into my shoulder.
Helen gestured to Ruby. “They need to go home.”
I shifted, trying to figure out how I would balance her. Alex stood up, wrapped Helen’s blanket around Ruby, and lifted her limp body like she weighed nothing. Then again, he’d carried me last week, so she was probably easy by comparison.
Helen helped Jean into her coat and I decided to leave too. Alex lowered Ruby into her car seat, then I clipped her in and tucked the ponies under the blanket before Jean drove off, leaving me and Alex, back in the driveway where it all began.
“I didn’t get a chance to talk to Mallory, but I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“I get it, Ruby was more important.”
He tapped twice on the roof of my truck. “Merry Christmas, Grace. Good luck with Mallory.”
“Thanks. I’m going to need it.”
Chapter 25Grace
“Um so gluh we gah the goo pi,” Mallory said around a full mouth.
“You’re glad we got the good pie?” Kate translated.
“I took the leftovers to my place so Alex didn’t sneak downstairs and eat it at midnight.” Mallory speared a forkful and fed me as I drove, then stabbed another bite and let out a satisfied moan.
“Geez, Mal,” Kate warned, “keep moaning like that and I’ll assume that pie is your best orgasm this year.”
Mallory slyly grinned, shards of apple between her teeth. “Nowhere close.”
“So, in the end-of-year spirit," I asked. "Who was your best this year?”
“Rob. No, Tim. Maybe Kyle. No … Definitely Jeremy.”
“Jeremy?” I stiffened.
“The engineer? Tall, beard, green eyes? He knew his way around a clitoris, but he was too serious,” she shrugged. “Tim was an actor, I think he wanted access to Nick. Kyle wanted me to meet his mom after a week. Rob hated my weird hours, expected me to work 9-5 then make him dinner like a good little wifey.”
Mallory acted nonchalant, but I could tell from her fidgeting this weighed on her today. “I’m curious, Mal … Sexual prowess aside, what are you looking for in a partner?”
“You want my MANifesto?” Of course she had a silly name for it. “A feminist, obviously. Can’t be intimidated by my business success or sexual history — better if he’s slept around, so he doesn’t slut-shame me because he gets it. Hmmm,” she pulled her blonde hair out of its messy bun to run her hands through it. “When I tell him that I don’t want kids, he won’t say, ‘You’ll change your mind when you meet the right person.’ And I’m not picky, but it wouldn’t hurt if he looked like Jon Hamm.”
“You don’t think you’re setting the bar too high?”
Mallory scraped her hair back up into a topknot.
. “My dad found my mom.”
“Not everybody meets the love of their life and falls in love in five minutes like your parents,” Kate said. “Sometimes you need to compromise.”
“I refuse to settle for mediocre,” she said in an accusatory tone. “Any progress with the cartographer, Grace? Was Operation: Mistletoe a success?”
Here was my opportunity … and my mouth turned to cotton. I met Kate’s eyes in the rearview mirror. She pursed her lips in an ‘are you doing this or what?’ face.
“I actually, accidentally, under the mistletoe kissed … your brother.”
Mallory choked on pie. “I must have misheard, because I heard that you kissed my brother. But that can’t be right.”
“A few weeks ago, um, we needed a Santa at the hospital, so your dad and I convinced Alex to do it.”
She fumbled for her water. “Wait, let me get this straight. My brother, who thinks Armani is slumming it, dressed as Santa? The red suit, the beard, all that?”
I nodded, still a little surprised that he agreed. "And you know Ruby from dinner last night? The nurses convinced her to lure us under the mistletoe. I was dressed as Mrs. Claus and I couldn’t reject him, right?”
“Definitely not,” Kate said, seeming to revel in my discomfort.
“But then he offered to do it again —”
“Voluntarily?” Mal asked.
“And he bought his own suit —”
“That snob.”
“There was mistletoe again, and he guided me over …”
